A Small World
by blucougar57
Summary: An unexpected revelation turns Mike Logan and Bobby Goren's world upside down. Follow on story from 'Trapped'.
1. The Storm Breaks

A/N: _This story immediately follows on from **Trapped**, and if you have not yet read that story, then I strongly recommend you do so before starting this. Otherwise, very little is going to make sense. _

_Rating: T, for mild coarse language, and possible violent situations later on._

_Dislcaimers: The usual. I don't own CI, or any other show that I might be tempted to cross this story over with later on. We'll see where it lands us..._

* * *

"I really want to look inside this envelope."

Detective Alex Eames glanced at her colleague and friend, Detective Carolyn Barek, as she guided the SUV through the Manhattan traffic.

"So do I, but Deakins said we weren't to open it. From the way he sounded on the phone, I think he'd probably kill us himself if we did."

Carolyn frowned as she held the envelope up to the light, trying futilely to determine what the contents were.

"He asks us to bring an envelope to _his_ home, to meet him, Mike and Bobby. The envelope clearly has information in it that's going to impact on our partners in some way, and he doesn't want us to know what's in it. But he wants us there to… what did he say? Control our partners. That's just great. What's he worried about, anyway? Neither of them have their guns, and at the moment Deakins could probably outrun them even hopping on one foot."

"You're assuming that he wants us there to protect him," Alex said quietly. "Maybe he wants us there to protect _them_."

"Which we would be able to do if we knew in advance what this was about!" Carolyn persisted. Alex shook her head.

"We aren't opening it. It's not worth the trouble."

"Yeah, easy to say that now. But after everything that's happened over the last month…"

She trailed off, and a sober silence descended on the two women.

It had been a little over a month since the events that had seen them almost have to bury their two partners. A month since Mike Logan and Bobby Goren had spent a terrifying weekend trapped in the basement of a building that was scheduled for demolition; a month since their dramatic rescue from within that same semi-demolished building, and a month since Bobby's miraculous recovery from a life-threatening coma.

It had been a brutally hard time for all. For Alex and Carolyn – both when they became aware that their partners were missing; then in the frantic hours spent searching for some sign of what might have happened to them; and finally in the days following the rescue, when both Bobby and Mike's lives had been in the balance.

And then there was Bobby and Mike themselves. Their ordeal had, without a doubt, been the harshest that either man had ever endured and now, the thought that perhaps they were facing yet some new trial was just about more than Alex and Carolyn could stomach.

"Whatever it's about," Carolyn said tensely, "it had better be worth the stress. Damn it… if only it hadn't been sealed! What the hell could be in it?"

Alex stared ahead grimly. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"Something that's going to profoundly affect both Bobby and Mike. It must be something big. Why else would Deakins be dropping it on them the day they both get out of the hospital?"

"It must be test results of some sort," Carolyn mused. "Alex, did Mack Taylor show up at St Barnabas to get blood and DNA samples from Bobby?"

"Yes, he did," Alex confirmed, her frown deepening. "The day before Bobby was transferred from St Barnabas to Mt Sinai. He did the same with Mike?"

"Yes," Carolyn said, with no small amount of bitterness in her tone. Alex glanced at her quizzically.

"Why the attitude? It was just a few samples."

"Maybe," Carolyn muttered, "but Mike was suffering from hypersensitivity to pain at the time."

Alex winced in sympathy.

"Ouch."

"Yes, exactly. We heard him scream all the way down the corridor when they put the needle in to get the blood sample. And you know, that son of a bitch Taylor actually threatened to get a court order if Mike kept refusing to give the sample? Even after Mike told him why."

Alex drummed her fingertips restlessly on the steering wheel as she waited for a green light.

"So he takes a sample from them both. That doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"Well, I don't know what explanation he gave Bobby, but he told Mike he wanted clean samples for the case against Baker."

"Clean?" Alex echoed sceptically. "What happened to the samples CSU got when they were taken to St Barnabas?"

"Nothing, apparently. But Taylor claimed he wanted samples for extra testing, to make the case watertight." Carolyn frowned as she returned her attention to the envelope, and its mysterious contents. "I'm sure I can get this open."

"Don't try it," Alex warned her. "It's not worth it, and whatever it is, we'll find out soon enough."

Carolyn sighed and slumped back in the seat.

"Not soon enough."

Alex didn't argue, but something deep inside of her whispered just the opposite.

* * *

"So, are you going to tell us what's going on?" Mike asked quietly as they headed away from the hotel. Deakins glanced briefly at them in the rear view mirror.

"About what, Logan?"

Mike and Bobby looked at one another in increasing irritation.

"That's exactly what _we_ want to know!" Mike growled. "You nearly choked when Jeremy made that comment about us being blood brothers, and then you bolted out the door like the place was on fire. Now, maybe we're jumping to conclusions, but we found that just a little bit on the strange side."

Deakins sighed softly.

_Damn it_…

"I _had_ intended on waiting until you were both fitter before talking to you about it."

"Talking to us about what?" Bobby asked. "Just tell us what's going on, Captain! That's all we want. To know what's going on!"

"I will," Deakins assured them wearily, quietly pleased at the way both men were being mutually inclusive of each other when they spoke. They truly had developed a close bond through their ordeal together and, once again, he prayed the coming storm wouldn't cause it to disintegrate. "Just… be patient."

Mike snorted derisively.

"You're holding on to some big secret, and you tell us to be patient. Nice."

"Well, you can wait to hear this," Deakins snapped. "Believe me, you can both wait."

Once again, Mike and Bobby exchanged grim looks, neither man suddenly all that certain that they wanted to know after all.

* * *

Alex and Carolyn were there well and truly by the time that Deakins arrived with Mike and Bobby, much to Deakins' private relief.

"This is promising," Mike said dryly as they got out. "He takes us home to _his_ place."

"Maybe he thinks we'll be better behaved by bringing us here," Bobby suggested, drawing a dark look from Deakins.

"Knock it off, both of you, and get your asses inside before you both collapse."

"Yes, Dad," Mike retorted, and limped up and into the Deakins' home, with Bobby right behind him.

* * *

Angie Deakins was in the vestibule waiting for them when they came in, and she greeted both men with a warm smile and an equally warm hug for each of them.

"It's so good to see you both out of the hospital. How are you boys feeling?"

"We're good, Mrs D," Mike answered.

"Alex and Carolyn…?" Deakins asked, and Angie nodded.

"In the family room. Can I bring coffee in for anyone?"

"Maybe later," Deakins said. He ushered Bobby and Mike towards the family room.

"Whose protection are _they_ here for?" Mike asked, nodding towards Alex and Carolyn as they entered the family room. "Ours, or yours?"

"Sit," Deakins ordered him, and Mike dropped into an empty armchair. After a moment, Bobby sat down on the sofa next to Alex. She handed the envelope to Deakins, who nodded in grim thanks.

"Bobby," Deakins began, "you probably don't remember, but Mack Taylor came to get blood and DNA samples from you while you were in St Barnabas."

He frowned, and Alex squeezed his hand gently.

"You weren't too aware at the time, but you did give permission for him to get the samples."

Bobby didn't argue with her, but nor did the frown leave his face. Deakins looked over at Mike.

"And I know you haven't forgotten."

"No," Mike said in a dangerously soft voice. "I haven't."

"So this _is_ to do with that," Carolyn guessed. Deakins answered with a single nod. He had no intention of simply dropping the bombshell on them, but nor was he going to play guessing games over it.

"Yes, it is. Mack told you both it was for the case, but that was only partially true. The original samples that CSU got when you were both taken to St Barnabas were given to a new tech to analyse, and in the process of testing those samples and the samples taken from Joey Baker's car, he got a little… enthusiastic."

"Define that," Alex said tensely. Deakins hesitated, taking in the sober expressions on both Bobby and Mike's face before going on.

"Over-enthusiastic, as in he ran a DNA comparison on the samples."

Silence met that statement.

"A DNA comparison?" Bobby echoed finally, incredulously. "Why? There shouldn't have been any reason to…"

"Taylor knows that, and he's already reprimanded the tech. But the problem now is that something came up in the test, something that couldn't be ignored."

Mike sat forward slowly.

"And the reason he took that second lot of samples?"

It took some effort for Deakins to avoid sighing out loud.

"He planned on retesting them, hoping to get a different result. He hoped that perhaps the original samples had been compromised in some way. But the second lot of results came back exactly the same."

"Are you going to tell us what the results are?" Bobby asked softly. The captain locked stares with him for a long moment, and had a sudden, disconcerting feeling that Bobby already knew the truth, and was just waiting for him to confirm it.

He returned his attention to the envelope in his hands. This was the moment he had been dreading for over three weeks now. He'd argued time and again with himself over the wisdom of divulging the news, and he'd wondered if it wasn't for the best that he simply bury the results. In the end, though, his conscience wouldn't allow him to take that path. He had to tell them. There was no other option.

Grimacing, Deakins slit open the envelope and withdrew the contents.

"What is that?" Mike asked in a scathing tone. "Have we got some terminal disease?"

A moment later, he yelped when Carolyn reached over and swatted him on the arm.

"Knock it off, Logan," she snapped at him. "That's not funny."

Scowling, he looked back at the captain, waiting for an explanation.

"There is no easy way to say this," Deakins told them. "No way to lessen the impact. I just hope that this friendship you've found with each other won't be harmed in any way."

"Captain, just say it," Bobby pleaded with him. "Whatever it is that you have to say, just tell us."

"All right," Deakins conceded softly. "Mike… Bobby… the tests proved conclusively that the two of you are brothers."

The silence that followed that statement was profound. Neither man spoke, or moved. They simply sat and stared, first at Deakins and then at each other. In the end, the silence was broken when Alex got up and grabbed the results from the captain.

"Let me see that."

Deakins allowed her to take the pages, his attention focused almost exclusively on Mike and Bobby, and how they were reacting.

"Brothers," Mike said finally, in a flat tone. "You're kidding, right? I mean, you have to be kidding. There's no way! Look at us! We don't look even remotely alike!"

Deakins said nothing, merely looking over at Alex, who was scrutinising the results.

"It's true," she said finally, handing the pages to Bobby with numb fingers. He promptly began to examine them, a deep frown on his face. After a moment, Mike shifted across to sit beside Bobby on the sofa, so he could see as well.

"No way," Mike whispered, staring at the papers in Bobby's hand in growing shock. "No fucking way…"

Looking sick all of a sudden, Bobby handed the pages to Mike, and got up awkwardly.

"We… have the same father." He paused, leaning heavily on his cane, trying to regain some sense of equilibrium.

"Bobby?" Alex asked tentatively. He smiled, but there was nothing pleasant in that smile.

"I always knew my father was an unfaithful bastard. I just never realised he was like that _before_ my mom got sick."

"Crap," Mike moaned, sitting back with a thud. "Captain, I could really use a scotch right about now."

"With the medication you're on?" Deakins retorted. "Forget it, Logan. The strongest you're getting is a soda."

"Gee, thanks," Mike grumbled.

"Bobby, sit down," Alex said as the detective swayed precariously. "C'mon, before you fall down."

He obeyed, if only because he knew she was right. For the next few minutes, Mike and Bobby sat in silence, each trying to digest the news, and each struggling with it for different reasons. Finally, Bobby spoke in an audibly strained voice.

"Can we have a few minutes, please? Alone…"

Deakins, Alex and Carolyn filed out of the room in silence, granting his request.

"I don't know why you asked them to leave the room," Mike said. "There's nothing to say."

Bobby looked around at him.

"There's plenty to say, Mike. How… How do you feel… about this?"

Mike almost laughed. Almost.

"How do I feel? Damn, Bobby, how about ditching the amateur shrink act for once? I think it's pretty friggin' obvious how we're both feeling about this. The bigger question is will it negatively affect our relationship? Our… friendship."

"Should it?" Bobby wondered. "Should what our parents did be allowed to have that much of an impact?"

Mike sighed.

"No. At least, I don't want it to."

"But it could," Bobby deduced. Mike frowned.

"No! Look, I'm not as friggin' eloquent as you, so just bear with me, okay? What I'm trying to say is that it's only going to affect us badly if we let it. Are we gonna let it?"

Bobby's jaw tightened just a little with new resolve. He valued his new-found friendship with Mike far too much to allow this new development in their lives to damage it in any way.

"No. Let's make that promise right now. Whatever happens from now on, we aren't going to let this ruin our friendship."

Mike chuckled softly as they briefly clasped hands.

"I haven't made a pact with anyone since Junior High."

Bobby smiled.

"Not since I was twelve, and that was a pact I made with myself."

"About your mom?" Mike guessed, and Bobby nodded in confirmation.

"Yes. I swore to myself after Dad walked out that I wouldn't let Mom be taken away again. Part of it was selfishness… I didn't want to be placed in foster care… But I couldn't stand the thought of her being in some sterile psych hospital, either."

Mike nodded, grimacing with empathy.

"I really do want a drink. What say we sneak out the back way and go find a bar?"

"Like the captain said, on our medication? We'd be back at Mt Sinai before we knew it."

"I know." Mike paused, and then laughed bitterly. "I've heard it said that alcoholism is genetic. I guess if there's any truth at all to that, then I don't have much of a chance, do I? Between my mom and your… I mean… our dad. Shit, what a mess."

Silence fell again, and this time it was a contemplative one.

"You know," Bobby said finally, sounding amused, "they're probably listening at the door."

Mike grunted. "They probably think we're going to end up trying to kill each other. Hey… Which of us is older?"

Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"Does it matter?"

"Damn straight, it does! Seniority, buddy boy. When's your birthday?"

"I'll be forty-five on August 20," Bobby admitted warily. A grin lit up Mike's face.

"Ha! I'm nearly a year older. I've got seniority."

At that, Bobby looked distinctly unsettled.

"Fine. You have seniority. Can we move on, please?"

"What is it?" Mike wondered, not so taken with his newly-acquired status as big brother that he didn't notice Bobby's discomfort.

"I have an older brother," Bobby explained after a moment's hesitation. "Richard. He… He takes after Dad."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning he's an abusive and often violent alcoholic with a gambling addiction. We… We weren't exactly best friends when we were growing up."

"Translation: You couldn't stand the sight of each other," Mike interpreted. Bobby answered that with a quick confirming nod.

"Richie and I… We competed for Dad's attention. Richie won, but the attention he got only succeeded in turning him into a carbon copy of Dad. He turned mean fairly early on, and he took his cue from Dad in the way he treated me."

"Let me guess. You were their whipping boy, right?"

"Pretty much," Bobby admitted.

"Shit," Mike sighed. "I guess we both had pretty crappy childhoods. Well, if nothing else, we can at least empathise with each other."

Bobby drew in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Mike."

The other detective did a double-take, staring at Bobby incredulously.

"_You're_ sorry? For what?"

"For… For this. I know you have good memories of your dad."

"Well, yeah, I do, but this isn't going to spoil that. If anything, I guess it'll make me appreciate them that much more. Especially if Dad knew I wasn't his. Because if he _did_ know, he didn't let it affect the way he treated me."

"You were lucky. He sounds like he was a good man."

"He was," Mike confirmed. "If he hadn't died when he did, a lot of the shit that I went through would never have happened, I'm sure of it." He looked back at Bobby. "And I don't want to hear you apologising again, do you hear me? We're not responsible for our parents' actions, Bobby. Not by any stretch of the imagination."

Bobby had to smile at Mike's fervent words. Already, Mike seemed to taking seriously his role of big brother.

"Got it. No apologising."

"Good," Mike said, pacified. "Now, how about we let Deakins and the ladies back in, so they can see that we are actually capable of talking without killing each other."

* * *

_tbc..._


	2. Adjusting

"Well, they're both still intact," Alex remarked dryly when Mike let them back in.

"You see?" Mike said to Bobby as he sat back down beside him. "What did I tell you? They don't trust us."

"Forgive us," Alex retorted. "But you two aren't exactly cementing a reputation for being trustworthy."

"Well, I still say you didn't have to handcuff us to our beds," Mike argued. "And arranging for the male nurses to give us sponge baths was just cruel. Whose idea was that, anyway? Yours, or Carolyn's?"

"Actually, that was the doctor's idea," Carolyn said smugly. "And you can quit whining about it. Just be thankful we didn't decide to leave you two clowns handcuffed until you got discharged."

Bobby looked up at Alex, incredulous at the idea she could be so pitiless.

"You wouldn't have… would you?"

Rather than reassure him, Alex favoured him with an overly-sweet smile.

"You'll never have to find out, will you?"

"Great," Bobby muttered, trying hard to ignore the smirk on his partner's face.

Throughout the banter, Deakins stood back and watched them in silence. He had been hopeful upon coming back in and seeing Mike willingly sit back down next to Bobby, and that feeling of hope had blown into full and complete relief when the joking began. As near as he could tell, nothing seemed to be any different between the two men.

Only time would tell whether any rifts might develop between them, but at least this was a positive start.

"Are you both okay?" he asked seriously. Mike and Bobby exchanged glances, and small smiles that didn't go unnoticed by their partners and their captain.

"As good as we can be," Mike answered for them both. "Specifically… We're okay with each other."

Deakins' relief was palpable.

"All right, then. Maybe I'll ask Angie to bring in that coffee, now…"

"Actually, sir, Bobby spoke up, "we'd prefer to just get home. It's been a long day. We're both pretty tired."

Mike nodded in wordless agreement.

"Fair enough," Deakins murmured. "Well, perhaps Alex can take you home, Bobby, and I can take Mike and Carolyn?"

"Thankyou," Mike murmured, intensely relieved at the prospect of finally going home. "We'd appreciate it."

* * *

"You don't have to stay, Alex," Bobby told her as she guided him into his apartment. "Trust me, I'm not going anywhere."

"I know you're not," she agreed. "But that's not why I'm staying. Think about it, Bobby. What if you slipped and fell? Or got sick? The doctor said that could happen, with the medication you're on. I'm not going anywhere, no matter how much you protest."

He smiled tiredly.

"I'm not going to protest. I'm grateful that you're here. It's just, after everything you've been through over the last month…"

She swatted him lightly on the arm.

"_You're_ the one who nearly died, Bobby. You and Mike. How can you even find the energy to worry about what I went through?"

"You're my partner… my best friend… and you nearly had to bury me," Bobby said softly. "If I'd been in your place, Alex, I think I might have just about lost my mind."

She slipped her arms around his waist and hugged him warmly.

"How about I get you something light to eat, and then you can take your meds, and go to bed?"

He nodded, suddenly feeling horribly tired.

"That sounds great. Thanks, Alex."

* * *

"Did you clean?" Mike asked suspiciously as he looked around his apartment. Carolyn smiled wryly.

"Just a little. I washed and put away the dishes, changed the sheets and blankets on your bed and did some dusting. There wasn't really much else to do. I actually expected you to be more of a… you know… a _slob_. You surprised me."

"Just because my desk at work looks like it got hit by the A-bomb," he grumbled in mock irritation. Limping across the floor, he dropped into his favourite armchair and let his head fall back. "Man, it feels good to be home."

"How are you feeling?" she asked quietly, not exclusively meaning how he was physically feeling.

"I'm home," he murmured, his eyes sliding shut in contentment. "I feel pretty damn good, considering. Tired, but good."

"Actually, Mike, I meant…"

"I know what you meant," he interrupted her. "Carolyn, I just got home. I haven't set foot in here for over a month. I feel like I just walked out of a hurricane. Don't start psychoanalysing my emotions now, please. I don't have the energy."

"Just tell me one thing," she asked, "and then I'll help you get ready for bed. Are you really okay with Bobby over this?"

He looked at her, genuinely puzzled.

"Why wouldn't I be? It's not either of our faults."

Carolyn smiled with a relief that Mike was simply too tired to try and understand.

"Okay," she conceded. "Good enough."

"Can I please go to bed, now?" he asked plaintively.

"Are you hungry?" she asked. "I can get you something to eat before you turn in, if you like."

He shook his head, pulling a face at the thought of food.

"Not hungry," he mumbled. "Tired."

In a brief show of affection, Carolyn took the liberty of ruffling Mike's hair.

"Okay, then. C'mon, you big ape. I'll get your pills, and you can go to bed."

* * *

At Bobby's apartment, he'd just polished off a plate of scrambled eggs and toast that Alex had prepared, and now sat on his bed without protest as she removed his shoes and socks.

"Okay," Alex murmured. "I think you can manage the rest on your own."

As she stood up, she was surprised when he caught hold of her hand.

"Bobby…? What is it? What's wrong?"

"I… I don't know that anything's really wrong," he answered softly. "I… I just…"

He trailed off, at a loss. Alex smiled gently at him, and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Finish getting changed, and get into bed. I'll go and get your meds."

When she returned with a glass of water and the small cocktail of pills, he had finished stripping down to his boxers and undershirt, and was now tucked safely beneath the covers. She supervised his taking of the pills, and then sat down beside him on the bed.

"It's good to be home," he murmured, the relief evident in his voice. Alex nodded wordlessly. She didn't doubt that for a second, but she was also anxious to probe how he was feeling about the bombshell that had been dropped on him and Mike that earlier that afternoon.

"You must be feeling pretty confused and angry," she ventured. As she spoke, she gently drew Bobby close to lean against her, and he didn't object.

"A little confused," he admitted, "but not angry. I don't have any reason to be angry."

"Not even for finding out that your dad was unfaithful all along?"

"It wasn't such a big shock. It wasn't that big a stretch of the imagination to accept that he was unfaithful before she got sick." He paused, and then smiled bitterly. "In a way, it even helps."

"How?" Alex wondered, baffled by his logic.

"It… It helps to think that maybe he was a bastard all along… That he didn't turn his back on us just because Mom got sick."

Alex hesitated before asking her next question.

"You're not… angry with Mike over this?"

Bobby looked up at her, confused.

"Why would I be angry with him? Why do you think it's his fault?"

"I don't," Alex assured him. "But you know what people are like, Bobby. When we're confronted with something we don't understand, or don't like, we tend to lash out. Deakins was worried that you and Mike might lash out at each other. I mean… Your dad? His mom…"

Bobby sighed a little as he finally understood where Alex was coming from.

"Both of them are the parents that neither of us has any connection to, or respect for," Bobby told her gently. "My dad and Mike's mom were both drunks that liked to beat on us whenever the mood took them. Neither of us is going to sit around bemoaning what they did. Mike and I have no reason to be angry at each other. We have every reason to be supportive of each other."

"I'm glad to hear it," Alex said. Bobby watched her with a small smile.

"He's sweet on you, you know."

Alex nearly choked.

"Who? Mike?"

"Yes. He likes you a lot, and he has a lot of respect for you. I… I think he'd like to ask you out."

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the revelation.

"What are you? His go-between? Bobby, if Mike Logan really wants to ask me out, he can do it himself!"

Bobby was unapologetic.

"Just letting you know."

"Well, in that case, I guess I ought to let _you_ know that Carolyn Barek is rather taken with you."

His eyebrows shot up.

"Really?"

"Really. What was it she said…? She loves a well-dressed man, and you look absolutely hot in Armani."

To her delight, Bobby went beet red. Satisfied, she slid off the bed and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the forehead.

"Go to sleep, Bobby. I'll be right outside in the living room if you need me."

He accepted her words without protest, feeling his body finally start to give in to the medication. His eyes fluttered closed, and he slept.

* * *

"Jim?"

Deakins looked around, and smiled wearily as Angie sat down carefully on the arm of his lounge chair and slipped an arm around his shoulders.

"Why don't you come to bed, honey?" she asked softly. "It's late."

"I don't think I could sleep."

"You're still worried about Bobby and Mike? They left here relatively unscathed, Jim. I think it might be safe to assume that they're okay with the news."

He grimaced.

"I know. I shouldn't be worried, but I can't help it. I can't help thinking that there's more trouble to come."

Angie smiled wryly.

"I imagine there would be. If you thought you were having trouble with the two of them when they were just friends, imagine the grief they'll probably give you now with the added knowledge that they're brothers."

"Thanks, Angie," Deakins muttered. "I needed that."

She laughed, and ruffled his silver hair lovingly.

"It could be worse, Jim."

"Oh? How?"

"Well, in my experience, there are two different types of brothers. There are the brothers who hate the sight of each other, and there are those who'd do anything for each other. Unless I'm way out in my calculations, Bobby and Mike are going to fall into that latter category."

He looked up at her plaintively.

"Why is it that I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Trust me," Angie murmured as she stood up and urged him up as well. "There'll come a day when you'll thank the blessed stars that they come into the latter category. Now, stop worrying yourself about it, and come to bed."

Smiling crookedly, Deakins allowed himself to be led upstairs, and all thoughts of his detectives erased from his mind.

* * *

Bobby awoke some time shortly after midnight, in a cold sweat and with a strangled cry on his lips. The echoes of his nightmare still lingered in his mind; his father's abusive diatribe, his brother's sneering presence, and the pain of the many blows that both dealt to him.

He was still lying there, shuddering and gasping for air, when the light came on, leaving him momentarily blinded. Then Alex was there beside him, wiping a cool, damp cloth over his hot face and murmuring reassurances to him.

"That was a bad one," she said softly when he'd finally calmed down. "You want to talk about it?"

Bobby swallowed hard. He didn't, not particularly, but Alex had a way of drawing it out of him regardless.

"It was about my… my father. Before he left… when Mom was in the hospital. He was beating me… and yelling at me."

"What was he saying?"

"That… that it was my fault. E… Everything was my fault."

Alex sighed and hugged him gently.

"It was a nightmare. It's over now. Do you think you might be able to get back to sleep?"

When he didn't answer, she settled down on the bed beside him, and drew his head over to rest against her shoulder.

"Go to sleep, Bobby. I'll be right here. It's okay."

Gradually, he relaxed in her arms, and exhaustion overtook him once more. Within minutes, he was asleep again, cuddled in comfortably against her.

In the quiet, Alex wondered just how much the news that he and Mike were brothers had to do with his nightmares. As far as she knew, Bobby's nightmares hadn't revolved around his father for a long time. And just what the hell did it mean, that everything was his fault?

As much as she told him that it was just a nightmare, she knew as well as he did that every nightmare had a foundation in truth and reality. So what, exactly, had Bobby's father blamed him for? And why?

She eventually gave up speculating. They were questions to which she knew she would not get an answer. She knew Bobby too well. Come morning, he would claim not to have any memory of the nightmares that had broken his sleep, and no amount of prodding on her part would get him to admit otherwise.

Alex sighed and settled in to go to sleep, her arms still wrapped protectively around her partner.

* * *

_tbc..._


	3. Questions

A/N: _I have to admit that I'm kind of amused that everyone seems to think this story is heading towards being a shipper fic, with the pairings being Alex and Mike, and Bobby and Carolyn. Some people actually seem a little panicked over this. I admit, I envisage Mike and Alex as being a very feasible pairing, but although I can imagine Carolyn would be attracted to Bobby, I don't think I would ever actually write them into a relationship. Two profilers do not a good pairing make. They'd psychoanalyse each other to death!_

_As far as the shipper aspects of this story goes, I'm only going to say this – once this story dives into the fast lane, Alex and Carolyn will be nowhere in sight. This is not a shipper fic, it is about Mike and Bobby, and their learning to accept each other as brothers, for better or worse. And, as you know, with my stories it usually turns out to be for worse. There **will** be blood spilled before I'm done._

_

* * *

_

_The next morning_

Mike awoke the next morning to the rejuvenating aroma of fresh coffee. He lay still in bed for a long minute, enjoying the pleasant smell, before finally rousing himself and heading out of his bedroom.

* * *

Carolyn looked up with a smile as Mike emerged from his bedroom, tugging a robe around his shoulders.

"Hey, good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Good," he confirmed, his attention too fixed on the brewing coffee to notice the doubt that flickered in her eyes at his answer. "Is that coffee ready?"

"Almost. So, you slept okay? No… disturbances?"

This time he looked up at her, hearing the scepticism in her voice.

"Yes, I slept okay. Why?"

She hesitated, and then spoke tentatively.

"I sat up for a while last night, after you'd gone to bed. I heard you cry out a few times. I just wondered whether you remember having bad dreams."

Mike answered her with silence, wracking his mind for any memory of nightmares, but there was none. When he looked back at her, his smile was genuine, and reassuring.

"I don't remember having bad dreams," he told her. "If I did, it's gone now."

Carolyn nodded in satisfaction as she poured a cup of coffee for him.

"Okay, then. Now, tell me, how's that hand?"

Mike looked at his right hand thoughtfully. It was no longer bandaged or splinted, but he was under strict instructions from his doctor and his physio to be extremely careful with it. It was healing well, but it would be all too easy to slip and do something idiotic that would result in damaging it even worse than it already had been.

"It hurts," he said finally, "but it's tolerable."

"Well, you know what your doctor said. While it's hurting, you know it's healing."

"I know," Mike agreed quickly. "I'm not complaining. At least I can use it again."

Carolyn nodded.

"Just don't try to overdo it."

He flashed her his cheekiest grin.

"Aw, no hanky panky, then?"

Carolyn found herself having to fight the urge to smirk.

"Hanky panky? Mike, sweetie, don't make me smack you."

He chuckled and turned his attention to picking up the cup of coffee with his healing hand. Before leaving Mt Sinai, his assigned physio had told him to make as much effort as he could to use his hand for very basic tasks – like picking up a cup of coffee. It was not only to increase his capability with the healing appendage, but also to ensure the muscles didn't atrophy through non-use.

It wasn't easy, and it _did_ hurt, but it was a hurt he could cope with.

"When are you going to work?" he asked, his gaze still fixed on his hand.

"In about an hour. Alex said she'd pick me up."

Mike did look at her, then.

"She's still at Bobby's place, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Could you give them a call? See if Bobby wants to come around here."

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"You're suggesting that we leave you and Bobby alone together? After what happened less than a week ago?"

Mike scowled. "We're not going to get into any trouble, and if we leave here, the farthest we're likely to go is the coffee shop around the corner. I just want to talk with him. And after yesterday, I'm surprised you even have to wonder about that."

Carolyn felt her face redden as the truth of his words struck home, and she smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I'll call them now."

A few minutes later, it was all arranged. Alex would bring Bobby to Mike's place when she came to pick up Carolyn to go to work, and the two brothers would spend the day together.

"You'd both better behave yourselves," she warned him lightly. "If you guys pull another stunt like that last one…"

"What will you do?" Mike retorted. "Handcuff us to our beds again? No nurses to look after us now, Barek. You and Eames would have to do it all yourselves."

She smiled sweetly at him, patting his cheek condescendingly as she walked past.

"Mike, if you put us in that position, I guarantee that there'll be polaroids this time, and you and Bobby will _never_ live it down."

Mike cringed, and decided his best course of action was compliance.

* * *

Alex and Bobby arrived an hour later, and it was more than a little curiosity that the women stood back and observed their partners' interaction. Upon walking into the apartment, Mike greeted Bobby enthusiastically, slinging an arm around the other man's shoulder and leading him through into the kitchenette for coffee.

"C'mon," Carolyn said with a wry smile. "I think we can trust them to behave themselves."

Alex looked amused as they retreated out the apartment's door.

"What you mean is that you've already threatened Mike this morning."

"Hell, yes. Told him the next time they pulled any dumb ass stunts, there'd be polaroids taken."

Alex snorted with laughter.

"I never thought of that. But then, Bobby was too busy promising me that they'd stay put in Mike's apartment for me to have the chance to threaten him. He knows I'll kick his ass clear into next week if he does anything like that again."

"They value their lives too much to even dare," Carolyn retorted, and both women laughed.

* * *

"You know," Bobby mused as he and Mike sank into individual armchairs with fresh cups of steaming coffee, "I'm a little surprised they were willing to leave us alone. After last week…"

"Don't question providence," Mike advised him. "Just be grateful that they trust us."

Bobby stared at him for a long moment before a grin broke out across his face.

"What did Carolyn threaten you with?"

Mike scowled.

"Never mind. Just know that the word Polaroid was used. And wipe that smirk off your face. You were included in that threat."

Still Bobby chuckled softly.

"They can't stop us from going out anywhere. I'd like to know what, exactly, they think we'd do. And as long as we stay in Manhattan…" He paused, eyeing the walking sticks that they each were still required for moving around. "And it's not like we're going to be going very far, anyway."

Mike saw where Bobby's gaze was directed, and grabbed his walking stick up from the floor.

"I'm telling you, the day I can ditch this thing, I'll be a happy man."

Bobby smiled wryly.

"And you thought your bullet wound was a clean through-and-through. You nearly lost your leg."

Mike grimaced at the memory. He _had_ assumed the bullet had gone cleanly through his leg. What he hadn't known was that the bullet had chipped off a fragment of bone which had, in turn, nicked an artery. It had been a very slow bleeder, though, and in the anxiety of trying to repair the damage to his perforated lung, the internal damage to his leg had been missed altogether.

It had only been when his blood pressure suddenly bottomed out during his transfer from St Barnabas to Mt Sinai that it was realised there was still a serious problem. An emergency scan on arrival at Mt Sinai had finally pinpointed the problem, and it had only been the skill of the surgeon assigned to Mike's case that had prevented Mike from losing the use of his leg.

The irony was that the blood poisoning that Bobby had suffered from _his_ leg wound was less severe than originally thought and, consequently, Bobby would be rid of his walking stick a good week or two ahead of Mike.

"C'mon," Mike said with an impatient growl, pushing himself up from the armchair. Bobby looked up at him, puzzled.

"Where are we going?"

"Anywhere. Just as long as it's out. Get your ass up out of that chair, Bobby."

Rolling his eyes, Bobby lifted himself up awkwardly and followed Mike out of the apartment.

* * *

They didn't go far. Ultimately, neither had the energy to go far, and so they ended up in the little coffee shop just around the corner from the apartment building. Comfortably ensconced with their preferred variations of coffee, silence reigned for a while before either man spoke.

"How do you think it happened?"

Bobby looked up at Mike, baffled by the ambiguous question.

"How did what happen?"

"Your… I mean, _our_ dad getting together with my mom."

It was with some effort that Bobby restrained himself from answering that query with a joke. Mike was serious, and making a joke of it would have been uncalled for.

"I really don't know," he answered quietly. "I know Dad played the field pretty widely after Mom got sick… I don't remember him going after other women _until_ she got sick… but I guess he did before I came along."

"Maybe he knew about me," Mike speculated. "Maybe that's what scared him into keeping it in his pants, at least for a few years."

Bobby nodded, taking a long swallow of coffee.

"Maybe. You think your mom might have threatened him with a paternity suit?"

"If she did, it wasn't for the money. It's strange, though. For all the crap she used to throw at me when she was drunk, she never hit me with that."

"She might have done, if your dad had left because of it," Bobby pointed out. "But he didn't, did he? He stayed until he died."

"Yeah," Mike agreed. He gave a soft, bitter laugh. "Maybe it's the one thing she was willing to take sole responsibility for. Stupid, drunk old cow." He looked back up at Bobby, a haunted look in his eyes. "Would you think less of me if I told you that I still wish she'd died instead Dad?"

"No," Bobby answered sincerely. "I understand. When… When Dad left, I was angry at Mom. I blamed her for him leaving, and for a long time I wished she'd died. I honestly thought if she was out of the picture, then Dad would come back. I didn't understand until a long time after that he wouldn't have come back, no matter what."

Mike regarded Bobby curiously.

"You admit that he beat on you when he got smashed, but you still wanted him around?"

Bobby scrubbed at his face with his good hand.

"It was a toss-up, Mike. I had Mom, who was a violent, paranoid schizophrenic, or Dad, who was a violent, abusive drunk. At least with Dad, it was easy to gauge his moods when he came home drunk. I wasn't always successful in judging things with Dad, but I at least knew that things would get more or less back to normal once he'd slept it off. There was never any guarantee that Mom _would_ get back to any semblance of normal. With Mom, she could go from completely sane to off the rails in a matter of seconds, and there was never any knowing what might set her off. And if I was smart, I could stay out of Dad's way. If he didn't see me, he didn't think about me. Whereas Mom would come looking for me, to beat the demons out of me."

Mike sighed and slumped back in his seat, and raised his cup to Bobby.

"Here's to crappy childhood memories, and the wonderful parents that gave them to us."

He took a long swallow, and thumped the cup back down, not waiting for a response from Bobby.

"It sucks, you know."

"What does?"

"Not knowing your own story. How you came to be… came to exist. I want to know, Bobby. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do. I want to know how my mom ended up straying, when she was such a staunch Catholic. And it totally sucks, because the only people who could clue us in are both dead. I mean, it'd be pointless asking your mom, and I couldn't do that to her anymore than you could. That just leaves my mom and your… I mean… _our_ dad, and they're dead. There's no one left to ask who'd know."

Bobby remained silent, his gaze fixed on the now empty cup in front of him. What Mike had just said wasn't entirely accurate, but he was loathed to speak up and correct him. The truth was, there _was_ one person still alive and – theoretically – in his right mind, and that was his older brother, Richie. Richie was nearly eight years older than him, which would have put him at approximately age six when their father supposedly hooked up with Mike's mother. It was just old enough that Bobby suspected Richie would remember.

He stayed guiltily silent, though, wanting above all else to avoid any sort of contact with his older brother. As much as he respected Mike's desire to know the facts, he couldn't bring himself to go down that path again by bringing Richie back into his life. Nothing, but _nothing_, was worth the grief that would bring.

"Bobby?"

Bobby heard Mike's voice, but it didn't register in his conscious mind. He continued staring into his empty coffee cup, lost in his grim memories.

"Hey, _Junior_!"

Bobby's head snapped up, and he stared at Mike incredulously.

"What did you call me?"

"Sorry, buddy," Mike apologised with a wry smile. "Just trying to get your attention. What were you thinking?"

Bobby's mind literally froze, unable to come up with any sort of decent reply. For several seconds he sat there, staring at Mike with his mouth half-open. Then, in a response that was pure panic, he launched himself out of his seat and fled.

* * *

_tbc..._


	4. Revisiting the Past

"Bobby! Damn it, will you wait up?"

Bobby heard Mike calling to him but, in his panic, didn't stop. It wasn't until he heard a strangled cry of pain, followed by a harsh expletive, that he finally stopped and turned around to find Mike slumping against a lamp post, cringing in pain. Guilt flashing across his face, Bobby went back.

"Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay!" Mike snarled. "What the hell is the matter with you?"

Bobby shifted awkwardly. He didn't know how to even begin answering that.

"I'm sorry, Mike," he apologised softly. "I… I just…"

"Ah, shut up and help me out here, before I collapse," Mike grumbled. Bobby hooked his left arm through Mike's right, and gently guided him back towards the apartment. "I swear, if I end up back in the hospital, your ass is getting kicked."

Bobby grimaced.

"Taking older brother prerogatives already?" he asked, not quite able to keep his voice free of bitterness. Mike glanced sideways at him, eyebrows going up. He wasn't necessarily the most perceptive person around, but even he had no trouble catching the mixed emotions in Bobby's voice.

"That's not an older brother prerogative, Bobby," Mike answered as they stumbled back into the elevator together. "That's just me being pissed off at you for bugging out on me when all I did was ask you a simple question."

They emerged from the elevator, and headed back into Mike's apartment, where they collapsed back into the waiting armchairs.

"Well, that was friggin' pointless," Mike retorted. He looked over at Bobby, who had suddenly become fixated with the colour of the carpet. "You want to talk to me? Or are you going to just sit there and stare at the floor?"

"My… I mean, _our _older brother," Bobby said quietly. Mike said nothing, waiting for Bobby to elaborate. He knew vaguely about Bobby's older brother from what he'd overheard during the Garrett case, and also from the little Bobby had told him just the day before.

"He's nearly eight years older than me… He would have been six or seven when Dad was together with your mom."

Mike felt an eager surge that he had a hard time concealing. He knew Bobby was not on good terms with his brother, but if said brother had been six or seven at the time, surely that was old enough to remember?

"So," he said, trying to keep his tone casual and amiable, "we give big brother a call, and find out what he has to say."

Bobby didn't respond to that suggestion. He didn't need to. The look on his face spoke in volumes. Mike sat forward slowly, frowning at Bobby's apparent reluctance to cooperate.

"What is it? You don't want to talk to the guy? So tell me how to contact him, and _I'll_ talk to him."

"It's not that simple, Mike."

"No? Why?"

Bobby sighed softly, trying to figure out how to explain it so that Mike would understand.

"Richie… He's not a good person."

"I figured that. I guess he liked to beat on you as much as the old man did?"

"Yes… but it's not just about how he behaved when we were younger. The guy is a lost cause, Mike."

Mike raised an eyebrow in bemusement.

"That's an interesting statement, coming from the guy who stood up for a cannibalising murderer."

Bobby flinched visibly at the retort, and regret filled Mike's face.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly. "I didn't mean that. Try and explain it to me, Bobby. Why are you so against me contacting Richie?"

Bobby let his breath out in a frustrated rush. As close has he and Mike had become in such a short time, he was still reluctant to share certain things about his past. And one of those certain things was the hell that his brother had put him through when their father hadn't been around to do the honours. Knowing he had to give Mike something, though, he settled for an in-between, and falteringly told Mike about his most recent experience with his oldest brother.

"The last time I had anything to do with Richie, it was back when I was still with Narcotics. He found out I was working as a Narc, and he came to me for drugs."

"He's an addict?"

"No. At least, he wasn't then. Not a hard core user. I think he wanted the drugs to use as payment for a gambling debt. That's something he _is_ heavily addicted to, just like Dad was. Anyway, I told him I couldn't help him, and he lost it, totally."

"Define 'lost it'."

"He grabbed a steak knife from the rack in my kitchen and stabbed me five or six times. I don't know how I managed to get him off me… Richie's even bigger than I am. But I did, and he took off. I might have bled out, except my friend Lewis was coming into the building as Richie was leaving. Lewis saw the blood on Richie's clothes, and called 911 even before he found me. I haven't seen Richie since then."

Mike chewed on his lower lip for several seconds before speaking.

"You don't know where he is?"

"Mike… I don't _want_ to know where he is."

"Okay," Mike conceded. "I get that. Really, Bobby, I do. But don't you think I have a right to know? And if it means tracking Richie down, then that's how it has to be."

Bobby shook his head, becoming steadily more agitated.

"No. I'm sorry, I can't go there. Not again. I… I can't have anything to do with him. I just can't."

"Well, what if I leave you out of it? What if I track him down on my own? Could you handle that?"

Bobby looked up at Mike, a distress in his eyes that Mike couldn't ignore.

"I don't want to contact him. I don't want you to contact him. No good will come of it. You have to trust me, Mike. Please, just trust me?"

Frustrated and angry, Mike pushed himself up out of the armchair and, thumping his walking stick hard on the floor for effect, stomped off into the bathroom.

Bobby watched him go, wincing as Mike slammed the door shut after him. He understood Mike's anger, but it still wasn't enough to persuade him that contacting Richie was a good idea. He knew… He just _knew_ that if Richie was brought into the mix, it would only end in grief for them both. The only problem was, he had no idea how to make Mike understand that without laying pretty much all of his childhood traumas bare, and he simply wasn't ready to do that. Not yet, anyway.

* * *

Mike stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to subdue the anger and annoyance he was feeling. He understood that Bobby clearly had his reasons for not wanting anything to do with Richie, but why did that have to preclude _him_ from contacting the guy? It wasn't as though he wanted to establish any sort of relationship with Richie, Mike reasoned. He just wanted a few answers. That was all. It was possible that Richie wouldn't even have those answers, but Mike at least wanted the chance to try.

He sighed softly. The big question was that he if wasn't able to change Bobby's mind, then was he willing to go behind the guy's back to get what he wanted? Was he willing to risk their fledgling friendship in that way? That, he thought ruefully, was something that he just wasn't quite ready to decide.

Turning on the tap, Mike splashed cold water onto his face. As his irritation started to fade, he began to wonder just what Bobby had meant with the crack about big brother prerogatives. It had sounded a strange remark in Mike's ears, but the distress in Bobby's voice had been all too real.

He began to wonder just how bad Richie's treatment of Bobby really had been.

What was it that Bobby had said to him? That he and Richie had competed for their father's attention and that Richie had won, but that the attention he'd gotten had turned him mean.

There had to be some deep, underlying trauma, Mike reasoned, and more than that one story that Bobby had so reluctantly told him. Mike wondered firstly if Alex knew the whole truth… whatever that truth was… and secondly just how long it would take him to get it out of Bobby.

Sighing again, Mike turned off the taps and headed out of the bathroom to rejoin his brother.

* * *

Bobby looked up uneasily as Mike emerged from the bathroom, and breathed a silent sigh of relief that he looked markedly less pissed off than he had ten minutes ago.

"So," Mike said dryly as he made his way into the kitchen to brew fresh coffee, "I guess we just had our first real disagreement as brothers, didn't we?"

The discomfort on Bobby's face was almost painful to look at.

"Mike, I'm sorry. I understand why you want to talk to Richie, but I just can't go down that path again."

"What the hell did he do to you, man? There's gotta be a lot more than that story you told me."

Bobby shut his eyes for a long moment. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to just bury it all, and let it stay buried. Bury it all so thoroughly that he never consciously thought of it again.

And yet, as much as he'd tried to do that all along, he'd never been able to stop the nightmares that plagued his subconscious on a regular basis. Whether or not he came clean with Mike, the memories would not be completely obscured. There was always some god-awful image hidden away just beneath the surface of his subconscious.

He struggled to suppress the nausea in his gut. If nothing else, he felt that he owed it to Mike to at least attempt to give him an explanation.

"Richie… He… He had Mom's intelligence, and Dad's sadistic streak. He was cunning, and manipulative. All the adults thought he was an angel. I was the only one who knew what a piece of shit he really was. Because I was the only one who ever saw that side of him. He… He thought it was funny, that I was terrified of him."

"But what did he _do_?" Mike pressed. "Give me an example, Bobby."

Bobby drew in a shuddering breath. Was there anything at all that he could tell Mike that wouldn't result in him suffering any degree of an emotional breakdown? In all honesty, he doubted it. In the end, all he could do was pick a story, and hope that he could stay detached enough that it wouldn't tip him right over the edge.

"When… When I was eight," he stammered, "I found a kitten. I took it home… I thought I could convince Dad to let me keep it. Mom was sick then… in the hospital. Anyway, Dad hit the roof. He told me to get rid of it, one way or another. I didn't, though. I pretended to shoo it away outside, and then I snuck it into my room. I figured that if I could prove that I could look after it, then he'd have to let me keep it.

"Richie caught me with it. I thought he'd tell Dad for sure, and then I'd be in for a real beating. But he went all buddy-buddy on me instead. He told me that he understood how much I wanted to keep the kitten, but that if Dad found it, he'd just kill it. Then he told me that he'd take me to a friend of his, who'd be willing to look after it, and I could see it anytime I wanted.

"I agreed, mainly because I knew Richie was right. Dad _would_ have killed it. So, I went with him, and he took me to the Port Creek Bridge, near our home."

Bobby paused, taking a moment to try and steady his nerves before continuing on with the story.

"Richie had a rope and bricks stashed near the bridge. When we got there, he grabbed the cat off me, tied it up with a brick to weight it down, and then lowered it over the edge of the bridge into the water. He… He grabbed me by the neck and made me watch as he drowned it. He… He took his time. Kept d… dunking it in and out of the water. It was crying… The cat was crying. I… I'll never forget the sounds it was making. I begged Richie to stop, I said I'd let the cat go, but he just laughed at me. Then… When he was done with the c… cat…. He t… tied the rope around me and… and did the same to me."

"Fuck," Mike swore softly. He'd seen early on where the story had been headed where the animal was concerned, but this was an addition he hadn't expected. Bobby went on, barely able to keep his voice from cracking.

"I nearly drowned. He… He kept dropping me into the water and leaving me longer and longer each time before pulling me up. When… when he did finally pull me back up, he told me he'd been kind, but that if I ever brought home another animal, he'd let Dad deal with me.

"When we got home, Dad was waiting for us. He… He asked Richie if I'd learnt my lesson and R… Richie said maybe he'd better reinforce it, just to be sure. So D… Dad took his belt to me, and beat me senseless. The… The next morning, I got another beating from Richie, because he'd grazed his hands with the rope that he used to dump me in the water."

"That son of a bitch," Mike muttered, feeling a hot rush of anger on behalf of his brother. Bobby regarded Mike with a haunted gaze.

"I need you to understand, Mike. Richie… He's like a… a pit bull. He might seem totally placid and harmless one moment, and the next he'll turn on you and try to take your arm off. He's dangerous… It took me a long time to shake off his influence on my life. Almost as much as Dad. I… I don't want you to have to deal with that… Not like I did."

Mike considered that for a long minute before speaking slowly, choosing his words with care.

"Bobby, answer me one question, and be honest. Do you believe that I could hold my own against Richie?"

Bobby contemplated that in silence. It was a good couple of minutes later before he finally answered.

"Mentally? Sure. I think I can safely say you're just as cunning as he is."

"Uh, thanks, I think," Mike said wryly. Bobby smiled faintly.

"Plus, you have the added bonus of not being an alcoholic, or a drug addict. Physically…? I don't know, Mike. He's one tough son of a bitch, and he knows how to fight."

"So do we," Mike pointed out. "Last time we got into a fight, I recall we did pretty good. We would have won, if it hadn't been for the fact that we were outnumbered about eight to two."

Bobby had to concede to that. Mike went on quickly, trying to press his point home.

"Now, I get that you don't want to face him again, Bobby, but you've got me to back you up now. And I'll tell you something that _is_ a big brother prerogative, and that's sticking up for my little brother. That son of a bitch tries anything at all, and he'll get my foot so far up his ass that he'll never sit down properly again."

Bobby regarded Mike with bitter resignation.

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"I need to know," Mike said with soft determination. "It's important to me. I can't really explain why… It just is."

"Are you hoping for something that might explain your mother's behaviour?" Bobby wondered, and Mike gave a lopsided shrug.

"I don't know. I really don't. I just have the feeling between us that if Richie can tell us what happened between our folks, then we might both get some answers."

"They might not be the answers you're hoping for, Mike," Bobby pointed out. Mike nodded amiably in acceptance.

"I know that. And since I don't really know what I'm hoping for, I guess it doesn't matter so much, does it? Anyway, I'm willing to take the chance. What about you?"

It didn't take much for Bobby to realise he was beaten. And the big grin that spread across Mike's face told him that Mike knew it, too.

"We have to find him first," Bobby said with weary resignation.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Mike said with a renewed enthusiasm that threatened to give Bobby a headache. "I'll make some calls to a few friends of mine at my old precinct. Going by everything you've said, I'll be surprised if the guy doesn't have a record."

"And if he won't talk to us on the phone when we do find him?"

Mike's grin widened.

"Then we go to him."

The scepticism on Bobby's face was all too clear.

"How the hell do we do that? Once Deakins, Eames and Barek get wind of this, there's no way they'll let us on a plane to go to wherever he is… and I'm pretty certain he's not in New York State."

"There's a useful little thing called a car, Bobby…"

Bobby snorted derisively.

"You're out of your mind, Mike. Between your right hand, my left wrist, and our legs, neither one of us is able to drive."

"There's nothing wrong with our legs as far as driving is concerned," Mike argued. "I can drive a car using my right leg for the accelerator and the brake. Just as long as it's not a stick shift, there's no problem. And I only need one hand for the steering wheel. You can do the same."

"You're assuming a hell of a lot," Bobby retorted. He paused, and then sighed. "You've got it all figured out, haven't you?"

"Hell, yeah. It's gonna be okay, Bobby. Trust me."

Bobby felt a slight twinge of guilt. There were those words again, and with them came the reminder that he owed it to Mike to show him a little trust. After all, Mike had more than proved himself in Bobby's opinion.

"Yeah," he conceded softly, at the same time giving himself over to whatever came of their new pursuit. "I do trust you."

* * *

_tbc..._


	5. Negotiations

A/N: _Well, I had planned for this to be exclusively about the boys, but my muse had other ideas. Looks like the women want in on the action, too_…

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Alex and Carolyn walked into Bobby's apartment that evening to find the place dark and silent, both women automatically assumed the worst.

"They're gone," Carolyn said, with barely contained fury. "They're gone, again! Where the hell have they gone this time?"

"Something tells me we're not going to find them at Starbucks this time," Alex muttered as she looked around the apartment with a frown. She paused, catching the look of growing fear on Carolyn's face, and imagined that it probably mirrored the look on her own. "Okay, let's just take a moment, and calm down. Odds are they just got fed up with staying indoors, finally, and went out somewhere."

"So, where would they go that's within walking distance of here?" Carolyn wondered. "God knows neither of them can drive."

Alex chewed on her lower lip, trying to think of somewhere they'd both want to go. To her bemusement, she couldn't think of anywhere that the two men would have gone together, with the exception of a pool hall, and there was none within walking distance of Bobby's apartment. She was on the verge of going into Bobby's bedroom to see if there was anything missing when the door opened and Mike hobbled in, with Bobby close behind. Both men were carrying bags of what looked like steaming hot Chinese food.

"Damn," Mike said with genuine regret in his voice. "We were hoping to get back before you ladies got here."

"You went out for Chinese?" Alex asked incredulously. Bobby smiled sheepishly at her as he made his way past to put the bag he was carrying on the table.

"Thai, actually. You know, from that little place just around the corner? You two have been doing so much for us this last week, we figured the least we could do was treat you to dinner tonight. And since I'm not really up to cooking yet, we figured Thai take-away was a good choice."

Alex and Carolyn exchanged a look that neither Mike nor Bobby could misinterpret.

"You thought we'd bailed again, didn't you?" Mike asked with a smirk. Carolyn frowned.

"Don't look so gleeful when you say it, Mike. And yes. We thought you'd gone off and done something dumb again."

"Well, we didn't," Bobby said. He motioned to the table. "Have a seat. It's our turn to wait on you now."

Exchanging yet another glance, this time in bemusement, Alex and Carolyn sat down at the table and waited.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"So, are either of you going to come clean?" Alex asked coolly once they'd finished eating. Mike and Bobby had insisted on cleaning up while Alex and Carolyn relaxed on the sofa, only serving to fuel the women's suspicions.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked, looking wounded as he and Bobby joined them finally. "Are you suggesting we had an ulterior motive for wanting to provide you lovely ladies with nourishment after a long week at work?"

"Save it, Logan," Carolyn cut him off flatly. "Your charm won't work with us. And yes. We do believe you have an ulterior motive. Spit it out, or the next time you're asked it'll be in an interrogation room at One Police Plaza, and it'll be Deakins doing the asking."

Mike snorted with laughter, only to have it fade as he took in the deadly serious expressions on both women's faces.

"I don't think she's kidding, Mike," Bobby said quietly.

"Damn straight, I'm not kidding," Carolyn retorted. "If you guys thought being handcuffed to your hospital beds was bad, you don't want to know what we have planned if you try anymore dumb-ass stunts. And we warn you now, it will be with Deakins' full blessings. He's had enough of your juvenile behaviour."

It was Mike and Bobby's turn to exchange looks. They both knew well enough when it was time to stop fooling around, and now was the time.

"We have a proposition for you," Mike told them.

"Why do I suddenly have an urge to get out my handcuffs?" Alex mused.

"Hey, at least hear us out," Mike growled indignantly. "Damn, if it wasn't for Bobby, we really _would _have been gone by the time you ladies got here. I was all for clearing out as soon as possible, but bright boy here talked me into waiting, and letting you both in on it. I said it was a bad idea, but he had some whacked-out idea that you might actually listen to us, and understand…"

"Mike," Carolyn said with a sigh, "quit babbling like a moron, and get to the point."

Mike paused, frowning, before going on in a slightly more subdued tone.

"The short and sweet of it is that we have some questions that we want answers to, and it looks like the only one who might be able to give us those answers is Richie Goren. The problem is that it's not just a matter of picking up the phone and calling him."

"What _is_ it a matter of?" Carolyn asked, struggling to keep her irritation levels down.

"Richie's in Florida," Bobby confessed ruefully, mentally cringing at the dark looks that descended onto the women's faces. "Specifically, in Miami."

"In jail, on multiple charges," Mike added.

"No," Alex said, standing up quickly. Though her words were meant for both, she quickly focused an angry glare on Bobby. "No way! You two clowns are _not_ going to Miami! Don't even think about it!"

Mike threw a flat look at Bobby.

"I was right. They don't wanna listen."

"We've already listened," Alex cut in on him heatedly. "And I'm telling you now, this had better be another stupid joke, because if I thought you were even remotely serious about going to Miami…"

"Alex, please," Bobby pleaded softly with her. "At least hear us out."

She stood there for nearly a minute, arms folded and lips pressed together to create a thin, angry line. Finally, she sat back down next to Carolyn with a thud.

"All right," she said tersely. "I'm listening."

Again, Mike and Bobby looked at each other. They had one shot to get this right. Otherwise, they suspected they could look forward to being handcuffed to their respective beds pretty much until they were both deemed fit to return to work. With that in mind, Mike deferred to Bobby, indicating with a nod for the younger man to go ahead. Bobby shot Mike an annoyed look before conceding and speaking quietly to their partners.

"There are some things that we need to know. We… We want to know how our parents… Mike's mom… and our dad… how they got together. We can't ask my mom. Even if she knew, it might just tip her over the edge again, and we… we don't want that to happen. So, that just leaves Richie. He would have been six or seven when it happened… He might have the answers."

"Bobby, think about what you're saying," Alex said softly, tensely. "Think about what happened the last time you saw Richie. You ended up in the hospital with how many stab wounds…?"

Bobby shook his head, agitated by the memory.

"I know, but this will be different. Richie's in jail. We… We go… We ask him what we need to ask, and we come home. That's all."

Alex looked over at Carolyn, eyebrows raised in a look that very clearly said, _is he serious?_

"And what if Richie won't answer your questions?" Carolyn asked. "Have either of you thought about _that_?"

"I think I can persuade him," Mike said confidently.

"And I think you're both delusional," Alex retorted. "Just how were you going to get to Miami? And don't either of you dare say you can drive, because you can't."

"Hey, I only need one hand for the steering wheel, and one foot for the brake and accelerator," Mike protested. "If it's not a stick shift…"

A moment later, he yelped as Carolyn whacked him across the head.

"Idiot!" she snapped. "Listen to yourself, Mike! You cannot drive yourselves anywhere! Do you _want_ to have a fatal accident? And for a reason as pathetic as this? For God's sake, why can't you grow up?"

Alex watched Carolyn give Mike a dressing-down with a small smirk that rapidly faded when she got a good look at the expression on Mike's face. It was a look not of annoyance, but of pure dejection. A moment later, Mike startled them all by pushing himself roughly to his feet and snatching his walking stick up.

"You still think they'd understand, Bobby? Still got any delusions about that?" He looked from Carolyn to Alex with genuine anger and pain on his pale face. "They don't even want to try to understand. Fuck them. I'm going home."

"Mike…" Carolyn called after him, startled and confused. He paused at the door of Bobby's apartment, looking back at them with red-rimmed eyes.

"I want to know how… and why. I want to know whether my mom found him… or he found my mom… I need to know the truth, and there's only one person who might be able to tell me that. And you call me an idiot for it and say my reasons are pathetic. So, I'm pathetic for wanting to know the truth of my background. Thanks a lot, Barek. That really means a lot. Thanks a fucking million."

He slammed out of the apartment, leaving Bobby and the women behind.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Both women sat there, stunned for a long minute before they both looked over at Bobby. He returned their stares easily, and the anger they saw there caused both women to wince.

"It looks like I'm the idiot, not Mike," he said quietly. "I convinced him to wait and talk to you both about it. I convinced him that you'd be willing to hear us out, and that you'd understand. I guess he was right after all. We should have just packed up and left, and not waited for you."

"Bobby, that's unfair…" Alex argued.

"No!" he burst out. "No, what's unfair is that you're both just totally dismissing us. This is something that's important to Mike, and that means it's important to me, too. And you're treating us like infants over it. Don't you think Mike has a right to get answers to his questions?"

"Well, yes," Carolyn conceded, "but…"

"And if that means going to Miami to get them, then why are you so against it? We're on leave for another month at least, anyway, and this shouldn't take anymore than a couple of days at the most. We could leave tomorrow morning, and be back home on Monday night."

"Bobby, you can't drive yourselves to Miami," Alex insisted softly.

"Then what do you suggest we do, Alex?"

Alex and Carolyn exchanged looks again, this time in quiet understanding, and Carolyn spoke ruefully.

"Deakins is going to kill us…"

Mike was still waiting impatiently for the elevator when a voice spoke right behind him.

"I'm sorry, Mike."

He froze momentarily, caught by surprise. Recovering quickly, though, he turned slowly to face Carolyn, careful to keep his expression neutral.

"Are you really, Barek? Or are you just play acting?"

Carolyn drew in a steadying breath.

"Okay, I'm not going to take offence to that because I know I was in the wrong. I shouldn't have said what I did. And yes, I really am sorry, Mike. If you're serious about this… if it's not just another stunt, then I'll back you up."

Even though Mike's facial expression didn't change, the look in his eyes did. Carolyn read a multitude of emotions there, but the prime one was relief, and gratitude.

"Thankyou," he murmured. She reached out tentatively to touch his hand, where it gripped the walking stick tightly.

"Come back inside? Please? Let's talk it through."

He went, if only because it had occurred to him as he waited for the elevator that he had no money for a cab fare, and he would never have made it home via the subway.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Bobby was still seated when he followed Carolyn back into the apartment, but Alex was on her feet, cell phone pressed tightly to her ear and pacing restlessly back and forth in a manner that was almost disturbingly reminiscent of Bobby. Mike watched her for a long moment before looking questioningly to Bobby.

"What's she doing?"

Bobby smiled wryly.

"Calling Deakins to let him know that she and Carolyn need a few days to take us to Miami."

Mike blinked, startled.

"Take us…? You mean, they're coming with us?"

"Face it, Mike," Carolyn told him. "All else aside, you really can't drive yourselves. So what other options do you have but to let us drive you instead?"

He grimaced as he slumped back in the armchair.

"I wish I had an answer for that."

"On the bright side," Bobby offered, "Alex is breaking the news to Deakins…"

He trailed off just in time for them all to hear an angry squawk coming from Alex's cell phone, forcing her to cringe and hold the phone away from her ear. Sparing the three of them a sardonic look, Alex reluctantly brought the phone back to her ear.

"Yes, sir. I know… Yes, I know that too. The point is… Captain… No, you don't need to…"

Alex winced again, and then slowly closed the phone.

"Brace yourselves. He's coming here now, and he's not happy."

"Uh, any chance we could go right now?" Mike asked with little hope. Carolyn rolled her eyes.

"Now that really _would_ be an idiot thing to do."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Deakins left One Police Plaza, he was seeing only one shade: bright red. He could barely fathom what he'd heard from Alex. Firstly that Bobby and Mike seriously wanted to go to Miami, and secondly that Alex and Carolyn had actually let themselves be suckered into agreeing to take them. After the behaviour of the two men whilst in the hospital, he honestly thought the women would have been much harder to con. Obviously he was wrong.

By the time he was halfway to Bobby's apartment, Deakins found himself reluctantly contemplating the explanation that Alex had tried to give him over the phone. As near as he could understand from Alex's explanation – before he'd seen red and lost his cool – was that Mike wanted answers to his own parentage. Answers that it appeared only Richard Goren might be able/willing to provide.

Deakins grimaced. '_Might_' being the operative word there, people. Deakins knew Richard Goren by reputation, and from what little he had been able to garner from Bobby himself. Bobby had told him a few grim stories during occasional moments when he'd let down his emotional guard for whatever reason – mostly because he'd been drunk at the time – and he shared the detective's intense contempt for a man whose entire world apparently revolved around the motto 'what about me'.

He'd never met Richard Goren himself, and he could honestly say he never hoped to.

On top of what Bobby had deigned to tell him, he also knew about the incident that happened while Bobby was still with Narcotics. Bobby's former captain had called him shortly before Bobby's application for Major Case was approved, and told him all about it. Bill Dodson had been anxious that, should Deakins accept Bobby's application, he be aware of the possible negatives that might come with the positives of taking on the likes of Robert Goren.

Dodson had told him all about the incident where Richie had attacked Bobby in his own apartment, and Deakins had had no problems sensing Dodson's displeasure over the fact that Bobby had refused to press charges, or to even make a statement that implicated his brother in the attack. In all honesty, Deakins had spent the last five years anticipating a similar incident, and he was happy to admit his relief that nothing had happened. Maybe, though, that good fortune was soon to change.

He couldn't imagine that Bobby _wouldn't_ have told Mike something about the estranged brother who had been such a thorn in Bobby's side all his life. But whatever information Bobby had been willing to give up, it clearly had not been enough to deter Mike from his quest.

Deakins supposed he couldn't fault that. After all, Mike had a right to know about his own heritage, for better or worse. And he couldn't begin to imagine how much of a blow it had to be to learn now that the father he remembered so fondly was, in fact, not his biological father at all.

By the time Deakins arrived at the door of Bobby's apartment, he found he'd calmed down considerably, and was prepared to hear his detectives out. This was nothing like their idiotic antics whilst in the hospital. It was a serious matter, and they deserved to at least be listened to reasonably.

Drawing in a slow, calming breath, Deakins rapped hard on the door, and let himself in.

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"Well," Carolyn muttered, "he doesn't look as angry as I thought he would."

Deakins chose to ignore the comment. Instead, he walked straight past them into the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of water, downing half of it before finally turning to look at them.

"All right," he said in a deliberately quiet, non-confrontational tone. "Who is going to explain this to me?"

"It was my idea," Mike owned up. "I wanted to talk to Richie to ask him a few questions. Bobby thinks he might remember how my mom and… and our dad got together. Please, don't ask me to tell you why I have to know. I don't think I can even explain that to myself. I just want to know. Whatever he can tell us… you know?"

Deakins nodded slowly. Yes, he did understand that, more than Mike would probably ever know.

"I take it you managed to track him down, then?" he asked, looking over at Bobby. He knew well enough that Bobby had deliberately lost contact with his older brother some time ago, and had no interest in where the guy was.

"Mike had a friend who found him for us," Bobby explained, holding back from mentioning that the friend was actually a cop in Mike's old precinct. Deakins nodded. He could read between the lines as well as anyone, and could easily guess what Bobby meant. He diplomatically chose to ignore it.

"So why the need for a personal visit?" he asked. "What's wrong with just picking up the phone and call him? Or have you already tried that?"

At that, Bobby and Mike exchanged uneasy glances. Here was where the proverbial truly hit the fan.

"That's where we have a problem, sir," Mike said tentatively. "He's not exactly where we can just call him anytime."

Again, it didn't take the captain long to read between the lines.

"He's in jail?"

Bobby nodded, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. He kept his gaze firmly on the floor as he answered.

"In jail pending a bail hearing, on charges that include manslaughter."

Deakins raised an eyebrow, but refrained from commenting. He didn't need super vision to see how uncomfortable Bobby was. After a moment, he walked around and sat in the remaining free armchair.

"Let me make sure I understand this. You have questions you need answers to. Richard Goren might be the only person who can give you those answers, but because he's locked up at the moment, you can't just call him. So, you want to go to Miami, and ask him face to face. Is that pretty much the sum of it?"

Mike nodded.

"Yeah, that's about it. Captain, I know it sounds nuts, but it's just something that we have to do."

"Detective," Deakins cut him off quietly, "I understand where you're coming from with this. I really do. But what _you_ need to understand is that this course of action you want to take may only lead to severe disappointment. You might not get the answers you're hoping for."

"We know," Bobby agreed. "We've already talked that through. We're willing to take that chance."

Deakins looked from one to the other with interest. If he wasn't mistaken, Mike was the primary instigator behind this particular action, and yet Bobby was placing himself very firmly into the mix with his constant use of the words 'we' and 'us'. It truly amazed him that, in just one week, the two men had so rapidly shifted their relationship from simple friendship to a clear level of brotherhood.

His mind already made up, Deakins looked over at Alex and Carolyn.

"You're both willing to go with them? You'll look out for them?"

"We promise," Alex assured him, quietly stunned that Deakins seemed to be conceding so quickly. He nodded, as appeased as he knew he could ever hope to be.

"All right, then. When were you planning to leave?"

"As soon as possible tomorrow," Bobby answered. "We… We could be back on Monday morning…"

"No," Deakins said, shaking his head and Mike and Bobby briefly shared looks of dismay, thinking they were being refused. Then Deakins went on, and the relief on their faces was palpable. "If you're determined to go, I don't want you rushing through it. Go, take your time and get the answers you need."

"How much time?" Alex wondered. Deakins paused before answering, silently hoping he wouldn't regret what he was about to say.

"Take the entire week. That should be long enough. But only on the condition that you call me every evening at five o'clock, and give me an update on what's happening. All right? Five o'clock, on the dot!"

The four detectives exchanged wry looks, and then Mike nodded with a small smile that reflected the enormous relief he felt, and spoke for all of them.

"Agreed."

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_tbc..._


	6. Road Trip

A/N: _This is just a short chapter, but I thought it might be important to get something up so that those who are following this tale know I haven't forgotten about it. _

_Warning: If you are absolutely opposed to anything other than a Bobby/Alex pairing, you may not want to read any further. I make no apologies. If you want B/A shippiness, go read my other current tale of woe, 'The Long Road Home'._

_Mucho fluffiness in this chapter. Not too much in the way of serious conversation._

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"Bobby, tell my something honestly?" Alex asked quietly as they sat together on his sofa. Deakins had left nearly a half hour ago, taking a near-euphoric Mike Logan and a rueful Carolyn Barek with him. Bobby looked up at her quizzically, with a hint of trepidation in both his voice and his face.

"What is it?"

She smiled at him warmly, sensing his unease and trying to convey to him with a look that he was not in trouble. At least, not this time.

"How happy are you really to be making contact with Richie again?"

Bobby looked away from her, an all too familiar shadow clouding his features.

"I'm not happy about it at all," he admitted reluctantly. "I wish Mike had been willing to let it go. Nothing good is going to come of this. I can feel it. But… But he still has a right to know. I can't deny him that chance. I… I know I'd want the same chance… if it was me. I'd want to know the whole story."

"But you don't want to know," Alex murmured, watching him thoughtfully. Bobby sighed softly.

"My father had an affair before I was born. He had a son through it. I don't need anymore details than that."

She reached up and lightly brushed a rogue lock of hair back into place.

"It's sweet, that you aren't willing to begrudge Mike the chance to get the answers he wants. I don't know that I'd be as understanding."

Bobby didn't respond to that, and as Alex watched him, the shadows in his eyes grew.

"Bobby?" Alex asked, feeling a fresh wave of concern. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I don't think the answers Mike is going to get will be anything like he's expecting. And… I don't know whether that's good or bad."

Alex sighed and hugged him warmly, pleased at the way he slipped his good arm around her and returned the hug.

"Sometimes we just have to let fate run its course, Bobby. For better or worse, we just have to learn to cope with whatever comes our way, and not waste our energy trying to avoid it."

He couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth in response to her words.

"I'm positive you were a philosopher in a previous life," he teased lightly, knowing just how much she really hated the early philosophical scholars – primarily for her inability to distinguish each one from the next during her high school years. She answered his gibe with a whack to the arm that drew a very satisfying yelp out of him.

"There," she said smugly as he frowned at spot where she'd hit him. It was on the upper part of his right arm, and with his right wrist still in plaster, he was incapable to rubbing the spot to soothe it. "Now we're even."

"Even?" Bobby complained. "You're not the one who'll have a bruise tomorrow."

Her only response was to smirk at him, and Bobby smiled and rolled his eyes in mock exasperation.

"I should have known better, shouldn't I?"

"Yes," she answered as she got up. "You should have. Now, get yourself up off that sofa and get your pyjamas on. I'll get your medication for you." She paused, watching as he got up and trudged away into his bedroom before sighing softly. "I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a very long day."

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_The following morning_

"Remind me again why we can't just fly to Miami?" Carolyn asked with a frown as, between the four of them, they managed to load their bags into the SUV that Deakins had consented to them using.

"You just don't get the concept of a road trip, do you?" Mike said.

"Oh, I get it, Mike," she retorted. "I just can't see the point of it. You seem like you're desperate for answers, but you're taking the long way around. We're going to be on the road all day, whereas if we flew there, you could be going to see Richie this afternoon. It just doesn't make sense."

Mike shrugged.

"If you don't get it, then there's no point in me trying to explain it."

"Then let me," Bobby interrupted as he lifted the last bag into the vehicle. "Carolyn, Mike has this warped idea that spending hours in a car together somehow helps people to bond. Never mind that we already achieved that over a month ago when we were trapped in that cage together. Plus, to put it in practical terms, sitting in a pressurised plane cabin would probably leave us both incapable of walking when we got to Florida."

"You make it sound so insignificant when you put it like that," Mike said in an injured voice. Bobby chuckled.

"Just putting it in perspective, Mikey."

"Don't make me hit you, Robert."

"Oh, great," Alex snorted. "It's not enough that we'll be stuck in a car together all day, and probably all tomorrow, too. You two clowns have start up with the sibling rivalry into the bargain! I swear, if you don't behave yourselves, we'll ditch you at the first gas stop."

"You wouldn't," Mike said, a touch too confidently. Alex grinned her best piranha at him.

"Wouldn't we?"

Mike and Bobby looked at each other, both suddenly unsettled.

"They would," they said at the same moment. Carolyn smiled sweetly at them as she opened the rear door for them to get in.

"How about that, Alex. They can be taught after all."

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The first few hours of their journey proved to be a real eye opener for the women. From the moment they were on the move, Mike and Bobby fell immediately into a long and involved conversation that encompassed everything from the price of Scotch (both had sworn off whiskey permanently, to the amusement of both their partners and their captain) to the Yankees' chances that season, to the unfortunate case load that their incapacitation had resulted in them leaving their partners.

The conversation between the two brothers was varied and colourful, and shifted from one topic to the next with startling speed. Carolyn and Alex listened with a mixture of amusement and amazement, quietly stunned by the connection they seemed to have developed in such a short time.

It was an eye opener to both, but even more-so to Alex that Bobby seemed to defer to Mike in a way that seemed almost unnatural. Whenever they hit a subject that they disagreed stringently on, it seemed to Alex that it was Bobby who backed off first, allowing Mike's opinion to be foremost. She couldn't help but wonder whether he was doing it deliberately to avoid arguments, or whether it was something that was much more ingrained in his subconscious.

When they finally stopped for gas, and so they could all stretch their legs, Alex cornered Bobby away from Mike, to speak quietly to him.

"Bobby, can I ask you something?"

Bobby smiled at her.

"You just did."

Frowning, Alex whacked him on the arm.

"Don't be a smart ass, Goren. You know what I mean."

He chuckled, rubbing his arm to soothe the sting left by her slap.

"Sorry. Sure, go ahead, ask away."

"Well, I was just wondering… You do realise you don't have to go along with Mike over everything he says, don't you?"

He gave her a strange look as he took a mouthful of water from the bottle he'd bought.

"I know, Alex."

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "It's just, it seems like whatever Mike says or does at the moment, you just automatically go along with him."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Like with this trip? I thought we'd already talked through that."

"We did," she agreed. "I just want to be sure you're not letting Mike bully you into doing anything that you really don't want to do."

And then he understood. Smiling faintly, Bobby took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm not being bullied into anything, Alex. And… I don't have big brother issues with Mike. He's not Richie. I trust him."

Alex sighed softly.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I know you do, and I'm not trying to say you shouldn't. I'm just…"

"Looking out for me, I know," Bobby murmured when she hesitated. "I appreciate it, Alex. I really do. Thankyou."

She was completely taken aback when he leaned down and kissed her very briefly on the lips.

"What was that for?"

He shrugged and smiled.

"There are more ways than one to say thankyou."

She grinned, then.

"Mike will be jealous."

"Why? He knows there's nothing romantic between us. And the idiot hasn't even bothered to ask you out yet, anyway."

"You seriously told him to ask me out?" Alex wondered as she peered past Bobby, to where Mike was just visible in the shop, filling up a basket with God only knew what.

"Well, I wasn't going to do it for him," Bobby retorted. "And you can't talk. You told Carolyn she could go ahead and hit on me, and that was when I was still in a coma!"

Alex reddened visibly.

"She thought that you…"

"Look hot in Armani," Bobby interrupted, looking around to see where she was watching. "I know. What the hell is he doing in there?"

"Beats me," Alex muttered. "We'd better go see. Hey, how's the leg?"

"It's okay," Bobby murmured as he followed her into the shop. "I can go a bit further on it every day. The rehab is really working, for my hand, too."

"You do realise you're not getting out of all that while we're away, don't you?"

Bobby nodded.

"I know. Mike wasn't happy about it, but I'd rather keep on with it, and suffer a little bit of pain. I know what will happen if we let it go for a week."

Alex grunted.

"So do I. Carolyn and I will be pushing you two bozos around in wheelchairs." She looked around as Carolyn joined them, a frustrated look on her face. "What's he doing now?"

"Buying up every high level sugar product this place has, I think," Carolyn muttered. "Bobby, could you please remind your idiot brother that we're only going to be on the road for a day and a half? He does _not_ need a week's worth of junk food!"

Bobby smirked, but went to do as Carolyn asked.

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

"You could've at least let me keep the Twinkies," Mike said sullenly when they were finally on their way again. Bobby grinned, amused by his brother's antics.

"We've still got donuts, skittles, M & M's, and enough Coke to give us a caffeine-high for a month. I told you, Twinkies would be a bad idea. The cream would only curdle with the Coke."

Mike looked unconvinced, and refused to be placated when Bobby offered him one of several bags of potato chips stashed behind them.

"I don't see what's wrong with Twinkies, anyway," he grumbled.

"Oh, for God's sake, Mike, quit being so juvenile," Carolyn groaned. "If you really want Twinkies, we'll get you your damn Twinkies when we get to Miami!"

"But you're not having them in the car! There's no point!"

"But that's just it!" Mike argued. "The whole point _is_ that there's no point. That's what a road trip is all about! Bobby, you get what I'm saying, don't you?"

Bobby held up his hand defensively. "Leave me out of it. I'm happy with the soda and chips."

"Great," Mike muttered sourly. "Am I the only one who gets the true concept of a road trip?"

"No, Mike, you're not," Alex said with a wry smile. "I went on a road trip with my brother just before I went to the police academy. I understand where you're coming from. Now, shut up and hand over the skittles."

Mike's face positively lit up as he passed the extra large bag over to her.

"A woman after my own heart. Alex, will you marry me?"

"Bobby, clue your brother in on how _not _to ask a woman out," Alex threw back over her shoulder as she tore open the bag and immediately began searching for her favourite flavours. Mike looked indignant.

"I don't need tips on asking women out. That's insulting."

Alex raised an eyebrow as she peered at him in the rear view mirror.

"What? You think they'll just throw themselves at you with a look?"

Mike didn't answer, but flashed his sexiest smile at her. Alex merely rolled her eyes in answer, leaving Mike looking irked, and Bobby and Carolyn both struggling not to laugh. Annoyed, Mike thumped Bobby on the arm.

"Okay, Romeo. You show me how it's done, then."

Bobby paused, reflecting on Alex's comments about Carolyn before speaking.

"Carolyn, do you like to dance?"

Carolyn glanced briefly at him in surprise before returning her attention to the road.

"Sure I do. Why?"

"Because I know a little club not far from the hotel where we'll be staying. The food's great, and the atmosphere's perfect for dancing. I'd love to show it to you… if you liked."

Carolyn had to fight off an urge to beam at the offer. She knew it was going to put Mike right out of sorts, but what woman in her right mind would refuse an offer like that?

"I'd like that, Bobby. Thankyou."

Bobby looked over at Mike, who was positively scowling by then, smirked triumphantly and then returned to looking out the window without saying a word.

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_tbc..._


	7. Arriving in Miami

A/N: _See, miracles do happen. I updated on this at last! Admittedly, this is only a short update, but hopefully the next one won't be so long in coming. And shippiness! My god! Shippiness abounds, and I never thought I'd go this way! _

_Be warned, though - I am veering **right away **from the favoured B/A and M/C pairings. If you really can't stomach the idea of Mike courting Alex, and Bobby courting Carolyn, then I suggest you stop reading. **I will not take kindly to flames from readers simply because I am not bowing to the standard shipper pairings.**_

* * *

By the time they reached the motel where they'd planned to stop overnight, Mike appeared to be over his bruised ego, at least enough to allow Alex to help him work through his physio exercises.

"Is that how you want me to ask you?" he asked suddenly. Alex glanced up at him, puzzled.

"What are you talking about, Mike?"

He looked uncomfortable, she thought, not without sympathy.

"If I… you know… asked you out. Is that how you'd want me to do it? Like Bobby asked Carolyn?"

Alex paused, looking him over thoughtfully. Mike had a ruggedly handsome look about him that Bobby was definitely lacking. Where Bobby had that cute, innocent little boy look that made you want to wrap your arms around him to keep him safe, Mike looked like the kind of strong, handsome guy that made _you_ want to be the one to be protected. She realised in that moment that she wouldn't mind going out with him at all, provided he could stop acting like a big kid.

"Mike, if you're going to ask me out, I'd rather you were just sincere in doing it. You don't have to copy Bobby's style. In fact, I think I'd prefer it if you didn't."

Mike let his breath out in a rush. Sincere. He could do sincere.

"Alex, would you like to have dinner with me some time?"

She smiled warmly at him and, on impulse, leaned in to kiss him lightly, chastely on the lips. Nice, warm, soft lips, she thought with pleasure.

"I'd love to, Mike," she answered with equal sincerity.

* * *

"Bobby, are you awake?"

For a brief moment, Bobby considered ignoring Mike's query and feigning sleep. Finally, though, he sighed and responded.

"Yeah, Mike, I'm awake. What is it?"

Mike didn't answer immediately but, tired as he was, Bobby kept his patience and waited quietly for him to sort out what he wanted to say in his own mind.

"I… um… I asked her."

"Alex?"

"Yeah. I asked her to have dinner with me some time. She said yes."

Bobby smiled in the darkness.

"Way to go, Mikey." _And it's about damn time, too._

A wry grin quirked Mike's lips. Bobby was calling him 'Mikey' much more frequently now, and yet he found he really didn't mind. Coming from Bobby, it sounded affectionate, and not insulting; just good-natured teasing from one brother to another.

"She said she just wanted me to be sincere… So, I guess that means no bowling on the first date, huh?"

Bobby smirked.

"That would be a wise assumption. If you're willing to take some advice, take her some place Italian. She'll enjoy that."

"Italian," Mike muttered. "Got it. So… You really don't mind? Me dating Alex, I mean."

"If I did mind, do you think I would have told you to go ahead and ask her out? Or that I would have asked Carolyn out?"

There was a rustling sound as Mike shifted in bed.

"I was wondering about that. I didn't think you were attracted to Carolyn."

Bobby hesitated in answering. More than anything, he didn't want to say the wrong thing, have it get back to Carolyn and leave her feeling hurt. He really did like her, and didn't want her thinking he'd asked her out as some sort of favour.

"I do like her… And she's a smart and attractive woman. I'd like to get to know her better."

Mike chuckled softly at Bobby's carefully worded reply.

"I think I get it. Just… treat her nice, okay? 'Cause I'd hate to have to kick your ass if you don't."

It was Bobby's turn to laugh at that.

"Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about you and Alex."

"Okay, then," Mike conceded. "You treat Carolyn right, I do the same with Alex, and we're all good. Agreed?"

"Yeah," Bobby murmured with a smile. "Agreed."

* * *

"You think he really wants to go out with me?" Carolyn wondered at much the same time as the men were having their own discussion on the same subject.

"He wouldn't have asked you if he didn't have some interest in you," Alex assured her. She had no intention of telling Carolyn what she had told Bobby. She didn't want to hurt her friend, but it was also because she honestly believed that what she'd said was true. Bobby would not have asked Carolyn out just to make a point, or to show Mike up. He just wasn't that kind of a man.

"Is he a good dancer?" Carolyn asked, and Alex couldn't keep the grin off her face.

"You are in for a treat, Carolyn. Girl, that boy can dance!"

Carolyn sighed with happy anticipation as she settled down into bed.

"I'll be looking forward to it. And… if it leads somewhere, then great. If not…? Well, at least I can feel sure that I'll have a nice time along the way."

Alex chuckled softly as she reflected on the many times she'd witnessed Bobby turning on the charm for a woman. And knowing that this time he would be doing it for someone whom he genuinely liked and respected, it was guaranteed that there would be nothing contrived about his conduct towards her. Yes, Carolyn was definitely in for a treat.

"Girl," she murmured, "I really think you will."

"And what about Mike?" Carolyn asked, watching Alex with a sly smile. "Did he get his foot out of his mouth long enough to ask you out?"

"As a matter of fact, he did," Alex answered, feeling inexplicably smug. "And he managed to do it quite nicely, thankyou. Now, as long as he doesn't try taking me somewhere tacky, I think we'll do quite well."

Carolyn giggled.

"Oh, god, can you imagine it? If it got serious… we could end up sisters in-law!"

Alex snorted, and burst out laughing.

"Let's not start thinking along those lines quite yet. We don't want to give the boys a collective heart attack."

Carolyn sighed again.

"All of a sudden, I'm looking forward to getting to Miami."

Alex's smile faded minutely. "Just as long as we don't forget why we're going. I don't think it's all going to be a picnic."

"Maybe not," Carolyn agreed. "But hopefully we can keep the boys from being hit too hard by whatever crap Richie Goren has to throw at them."

Alex didn't reply to that, but quietly, fervently, she hoped that Carolyn was right.

* * *

_Miami Dade County  
__Florida_

They arrived in Miami just before noon the next day, and soon found their way to their hotel. Deakins had booked it for them the night before they'd left, and neither Bobby nor Mike were entirely surprised to find they'd been booked into not two separate suites, but a large two bedroom suite.

"He's done this so they can keep an eye on us," Mike grumbled in irritation as he sat down on one of the two single beds in the room. Bobby smiled wryly as he lay down on the other soft bed.

"It could be worse."

Mike looked around at him, eyebrow raised.

"Oh? How?"

"It could have just been a Queen size, and not two singles."

Mike snorted.

"Deakins wouldn't have dared."

"Don't bet on that," Bobby retorted. "He's still sour on us over the Starbucks thing."

Mike only grunted, and then sighed as he lay down, taking the pressure off his injured leg.

"Look at this, would you?"

Both men looked up to see Alex standing in the doorway, eyeing them both with an amused smirk. Carolyn joined her, and snorted derisively at the sight of them.

"What was it they said when we left New York yesterday?" Alex mused. "Oh, yeah… 'This will be much better than flying. We'll be fine, and we won't be tired when we get there'." She shook her head. "You two are full of it, you know that?"

"In my defence, I'd like to point out that I never said anything of the sort," Bobby answered, making no effort to move. "That was entirely Mike."

"Traitor," Mike retorted.

"Self-preservation," Bobby fired back at him.

"Whatever it is," Alex said bluntly, "you can both get your sorry asses up. It might be too late now to go to see Richie, but you can at least make contact with the arresting officer. Who was it again?"

"A Lieutenant Caine," Mike said, wearily pushing himself back up again. "Do we really have to do this now? It's not like the guy is going anywhere."

"Look at it this way, Mike," Alex said. "The sooner we get this part of the trip over with, the sooner we can relax and enjoy just being here. We've got a week. Do you really want to waste it chasing after Richie?"

"Good point," Mike conceded ruefully, and got awkwardly back to his feet. "Let's go."

* * *

_tbc..._


	8. A Minor Setback

_CSI Headquarters  
__Miami Dade County_

Lieutenant Horatio Caine was sitting in his office, reading through forensic reports, when a shadow fell across his desk. Looking up, he found himself staring at Frank Tripp, the detective who worked closely with him and his CSI team.

"Frank?" Horatio asked, leaning back in his chair a little. "Is something wrong?"

He nearly winced at his own choice of words. Considering they had a brutal triple homicide on their hands, and the only suspect in their custody had not actually committed the crime himself, but was too big a fool to save himself and give up the identity of the real culprit. Richard Goren was a stubborn idiot, and Horatio had yet to work out whether it was because he was afraid, or just plain moronic.

Frank, he realised as his thoughts slowly came back to the present, was looking rather uncomfortable.

"Horatio, you remember I told you there might be some folks coming to see Richie Goren? From New York?"

"I seem to recall you mentioning it. Why?"

"Well, they're in Interview Three now. Just arrived in Miami, apparently."

Horatio rose up slowly from his chair.

"And what did you tell them?"

"Nothing, yet. I didn't know what to tell them. Apparently one of them is Goren's little brother."

"Okay," Horatio said, fighting an urge to sigh. "Well, I guess we'd better go and talk to them."

"Uh, Horatio, there's one other thing. They're all cops."

Horatio paused, one eyebrow going up, and Frank shifted uncomfortably.

"They're all gold shield NYPD detectives, Horatio. From the Major Case Squad."

A sinking feeling settled in Horatio's gut. Richard Goren's brother was a Major Case detective? That was all they needed, to have a high profile detective from another jurisdiction causing them trouble… as if they didn't have enough already.

"All right, Frank," Horatio said in a considerably more subdued tone. "Let's go and talk to them."

* * *

The first things that Horatio noticed when he walked into the interview room were the walking sticks that both men held on to. His gaze flickered briefly up and down before he spoke in greeting to them.

"I'm Lieutenant Horatio Caine," he introduced himself to them. "You folks are here for Richard Goren, correct?"

Bobby stood up slowly, leaning heavily now on his walking stick. He accepted Horatio's outstretched hand, and spoke quietly.

"We're here _about_ him, Lieutenant. Not for him. I'm Robert Goren. This is Mike Logan, and our partners, Alex Eames and Carolyn Barek. We need to see Richie, Lieutenant."

"May I ask what it's about?" Horatio asked. Bobby hesitated before answering, looking across at Mike, who nodded wordlessly.

"We have some questions that we need answers to, Lieutenant," Bobby replied. "They're questions that only Richie can answer for us."

_Join the queue, people_, Horatio thought wryly.

"Okay… Have a seat, Detective Goren. Please…"

Bobby sat back down, and the relief at being able to relieve the pressure from his leg was written all over his face. Once they were all seated, Horatio went on, choosing his words carefully.

"Can I ask, are you aware of the charges pending against Richard?"

"Detective Tripp filled us in on that," Bobby confirmed.

"Look," Mike said quickly, leaning forward as much as he could. "We don't want to interfere with your investigation. We're not here to bail Richie out. We just want to talk to him, and that's all."

"Fair enough," Horatio conceded. "Here's the problem, though. Richard Goren is no longer in our custody."

Silence met Horatio's statement as the four detectives exchanged dismayed looks. In the space of a few seconds, Horatio observed some very diverse expressions on their faces. The women, he noticed, looked irritated. He could have sworn that Mike Logan looked disappointed, and Richard's little brother…? _He_ looked relieved.

Horatio supposed he could have been mistaken about that, but somehow he doubted it.

"Well, do you know where we can find him?" Mike asked. Horatio looked back at Frank to answer that one.

"We have an address for him, but as near as our surveillance can tell, he hasn't been back to that address since he was bailed last night."

"I told you we should have come by plane, idiot," Carolyn growled at her partner. Mike, for his part, was not the least bit apologetic.

"Hey, it's just a minor setback. So we have to track him down now. We can do that."

"Actually," Horatio interjected, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't take it upon yourselves to do that. The point being, ladies and gentlemen, is that Richie has fallen in with some very dangerous people, one of whom may be responsible for a vicious triple homicide."

The look he got from Mike at that moment almost had him feeling like a recalcitrant child who'd just said something phenomenally stupid. Mike stared him down for several seconds, not so much as blinking, before speaking coolly.

"Lieutenant, do we look like rookies to you? We're cops, the same as you, and tracking down the worst killers is what we do for a living."

Horatio nodded passively, suddenly anxious to defuse the sudden tension in the room.

"Be that as it may, Detective Logan, this is not your jurisdiction, and I hope I don't need to point out that you don't have any authority here."

By then, Mike's expression had turned truly dangerous and, as he got slowly to his feet, Horatio took an instinctive step backwards.

"I think you just did, Lieutenant Caine. So tell us… does that mean you'd arrest us if we disregard you?"

"Okay," Alex said quickly, deciding it was time to step in before things got out of hand. "Cool it, Mike. Lieutenant, it really is important that we find Richie quickly. Our captain has only given us a week to get this sorted out, and then we gave to be back in New York."

Horatio regarded them soberly.

"What, exactly, is this all about?" he asked again. When the four detectives hesitated in replying, Horatio tried another tact. "If you could explain this to me, then I might be able to help you."

Mike, however, moved around to the door, his expression still dark and angry.

"The only thing that will help will be finding Richie."

With that, he limped out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Sparing her friends a rueful look, Carolyn got up and hurried after her partner.

"I'm sorry," Bobby apologised quietly to Horatio and Frank. "He tries to hide it, but Mike is really on edge about this."

"You really don't have to apologise," Horatio told him. Bobby nodded appreciatively.

"I know, but I want to. You see, we've been through so much together recently, and it really was Mike who held everything together. Now we come here, hoping to get some answers from Richie, only to find out that he's out on bail, and we have to track him down all over again… I guess it was one thing more than Mike could take."

"He seems more anxious to find your brother than you do," Horatio pointed out, and Bobby nodded again.

"That's because he's the one with the questions, Lieutenant. Personally, I'd be happy if I never laid eyes on Richie again."

"They why not just let Logan come on his own?" Frank asked, frowning.

"Because," Bobby answered, "I know what Richie is really like. Mike doesn't. Not yet. I don't want him to get hurt because he's underestimated what Richie is actually capable of."

"You two must be very good friends, for you to be willing to watch his back like that," Horatio mused. A small, knowing smile touched Bobby's lips.

"Yes, Lieutenant. We are."

* * *

"Why didn't you tell him the truth?" Alex asked softly as they exited the building. Bobby raised an eyebrow at her in puzzlement.

"I didn't lie to him, Alex."

"No," Alex conceded, "but you didn't tell him the whole truth, either."

Bobby sighed, then.

"That's our own business, and we shouldn't have to use it for leverage to get what we want."

"Fair enough," Alex murmured. She paused, and then spotted Mike and Carolyn sitting on a bench nearby. Slipping her arm through Bobby's, she guided him over to them.

"I'm sorry," Mike muttered, a touch sullenly as Bobby and Alex joined them. "I just felt like we were being stonewalled, and it pissed me off."

Bobby dropped onto the bench with a soft thud.

"It's okay, Mike. That lieutenant is a decent guy. I gave him my cell phone number, and he promised to contact us as soon as he knows where Richie is."

Mike's frown deepened.

"So that's it? You're not going to even try and look for him?"

"No," Bobby growled, putting an extra note of warning in his voice. "And neither are you. You'll get your chance, Mike. Don't blow it by jumping the gun."

With extreme reluctance, Mike conceded, though Bobby thought he saw a familiar, unwelcome glint in his brother's eyes.

"Okay… Okay. So, what now?"

"We get you two bozos back to the hotel," Alex stated firmly. "It's exercise time, and then we'll go for dinner."

"Don't look so down, Mike," Carolyn told him warmly. "We made progress."

Mike, however, only looked even more sour.

"Doesn't feel like we did."

Bobby slung an arm around Mike's shoulders in an affectionate gesture.

"We'll have a chance to ask him what we want to know, Mikey. And in the meantime, we've here in sunny Miami, and we've got two beautiful women to enjoy it with. I say we make the most of it while we're here."

Mike nodded, slowly caving to Bobby's way of thinking.

"Yeah, maybe you're right."

Bobby grinned.

"I know I am."

* * *

"So, what do you think?" Frank Tripp asked as he and Horatio watched the four New York detectives leave.

"I think," Horatio murmured, "that they're holding out on us. We didn't even get close to the full story, Frank. Did you notice the way they side-stepped each time I asked them what it was about?"

Frank nodded. Yes, he'd definitely noticed that. Horatio went on quietly.

"I think I might run a check on Detectives Goren and Logan, and see what comes up. Frank, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know when you locate Richie Goren."

"Consider it done," Frank replied.

"Thankyou," Horatio said. "Now, let's find out what the good detectives _weren't_ telling us."

* * *

_tbc..._

A/N: _Hands up anyone who thinks Mike will be able to sit back and let the MDPD find Richie... No takers? Didn't think so..._


	9. First Encounter

A/N: _It's bad enough that my muse has suddenly gone shippiness-happy, but I draw the line at writing dates. I resist still. You'll just have to take it as canon that Alex and Mike, and Bobby and Carolyn had a lovely dinner followed by dancing. My fluffiness skills just aren't up to par, and I'd rather skip it than ruin it.  
And besides, any pairings are a secondary plot. The story is first and foremost about Mike and Bobby.

* * *

_

"What the hell are they doing in there that takes nearly forty-five minutes?" Mike grumbled, as they sat back in their hotel suite, waiting for Alex and Carolyn to surface. The women had disappeared into their shared bedroom shortly after finishing helping them both with their physio exercises, intent on getting ready to go out for dinner. That had been over half an hour ago, and both men were starting to get a little restless.

They'd agreed on going to the club that Bobby had told Carolyn about on the way to Miami, and both women had shown an enthusiasm that left Bobby and Mike feeling a little worried.

"If you value your life, you won't ask either one of them," Bobby warned him wryly. Mike smirked.

"Right. That's on the same level as asking a woman how old she is, or what's in her handbag." His gaze alighted on Alex's handbag, which sat nearby on the coffee table next to Carolyn's, and a grin lit up his face. "Speaking of which…"

Bobby regarded his brother bemusedly.

"Do you _want_ to get yourself smacked? Alex'll shoot you if you go looking through her handbag."

"What, you're saying you've never looked? Not even a peep?"

"I value my life," Bobby replied flatly. "But hey, if you don't mind getting 'em cut off…" Mike grimaced at the image that presented in his mind, and Bobby chuckled softly. "There are some places that you should never even contemplate going, and a woman's handbag is one of those places. If you never listen to anything else I say, at least listen to that."

Mike regarded Bobby with amusement.

"You didn't answer my question, baby brother. Have you ever looked?"

Bobby sighed.

"Let me put it this way, Mike. What she doesn't know won't hurt me."

Mike snorted with laughter.

"I knew it!"

Bobby rolled his eyes, but said nothing, and silence fell once more.

"I can't just sit on my ass and do nothing, Bobby," Mike said suddenly, agitation in his tone.

Bobby regarded him with a mixture of sympathy and warning, understanding that he was no longer talking about their pending double-date with Alex and Carolyn.

"Mike, don't. It's really not a good idea. Please, can't you just trust me on this? Just leave it to Lieutenant Caine and Detective Tripp to find Richie."

"And what if they can't find him?" Mike argued. "Deakins only gave us a week!"

"I haven't forgotten," Bobby reassured him. "And believe me, as cunning as Richie can be, he's not smart enough to avoid the police indefinitely. If they're looking for him, they'll find him. Hell, all they have to do is put out an alert to all the gambling venues in Miami. He'll turn up at one of them sooner or later."

"Gambling venues, huh?" Mike mused, and Bobby's senses promptly went on high alert.

"Mike…"

"So, what would it matter if we hit a few places? We're on holiday, aren't we? Technically? And if we just happen to run into Richie in the process…"

"Thin ice, Mike," Bobby warned him. "Not to mention, the women will draw and quarter you."

"So, we don't tell them," Mike said with a lopsided shrug. A moment later, he pulled away in annoyance when Bobby leaned across and pressed a palm to his forehead. "What?"

"Sorry," Bobby apologised. "I thought you must have been sick. For a second there, I could have sworn you were delirious."

"Funny," Mike retorted.

"We've been down this road before, Mike," Bobby said with a sigh. "It's really not a good idea to keep Alex and Carolyn out of the loop! Besides, do you really think they wouldn't figure out what we were doing? I don't know about you, but Alex knows damn well that I don't gamble."

Mike frowned, increasingly irritated.

"This is fucking ridiculous, Bobby. All we need is five friggin' minutes to ask him a couple of questions. That's all! Just five minutes! Why is this turning out to be so difficult?"

"You don't want me to answer that honestly, do you?" Bobby asked quietly, and Mike shot him a death glare.

"No. Keep it to yourself, Goren."

Again, Bobby rolled his eyes, but before he had a chance to say another word, the bedroom door swung open and Alex and Carolyn emerged.

"Wow…" Mike said finally, staring appreciatively at the petite woman who had agreed to be his date for the evening.

"Good response, Mike," Alex said approvingly. She was wearing a black skirt that came only halfway down her thighs, and a silky light blue top with a halter neck style that tied off at the back. In the front, it didn't quite cover her midriff, leaving her belly button exposed in a tantalising display of flesh. She wore stilettos that gave her extra height, bringing her well up past Mike's shoulders.

She wore her hair down, but a couple of well-placed clips kept it out of her face, allowing Mike to appreciate her highlighted features all the more.

Carolyn, for her part, had chosen a sexy red dress that clung to her body in all the right places, and came to just above her knees. She, too, wore heels, though not as pronounced as Alex's stilettos. At Alex's suggestion, Carolyn had put curlers in her hair, leaving them in just long enough to give her waves an extra kick. Alex had assured her it was sexy as hell and, judging from the appreciative way that Bobby was staring at her, she'd been right.

"So, do we meet with your approval, boys?" Carolyn asked, putting an extra boost of bravado into her tone to mask a sudden onset of nerves. Bobby finally snapped back to reality, and pushed himself up.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he told her sincerely, causing an endearing red blush to creep across her cheeks. His gaze flickered to Alex, and he smiled warmly at her. "You both do. I… hope we're the ones who meet with _your_ approval."

Alex paused, stepping back to eye first Mike and then Bobby with critical appraisal. Truth was that both the guys looked seriously good, with Bobby wearing black pants and Mike wearing tan coloured pants. Bobby wore a red shirt that Alex was positive she'd never seen before, open-necked with no tie, and a seriously expensive looking black jacket. Mike wore a soft blue shirt that matched the colour of Alex's top almost perfectly, again with no tie and his comfortable brown leather jacket.

"Well," Alex said with a barely concealed smirk, "I guess you'll both do…"

Mike and Bobby exchanged wry looks.

"You hear that, baby brother?" Mike asked in mock disgust. "_We'll do_."

Bobby looked at Alex, fighting a grin.

"Well, if you're worried we'll cramp your style..."

"Stop it," Alex retorted, laughing and whacking him lightly on the shoulder before slipping her arm comfortably through Mike's. "You both look great. Now c'mon. We're hungry."

Bobby offered his arm to Carolyn, which she took with a shy smile.

"Thankyou, kind sir."

He flashed her his warmest smile and, as they left the hotel suite, he couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have the company of such a smart, beautiful and kind woman for the night.

* * *

_Miami Dade Crime Lab_

"Calleigh?"

Calleigh Duquesne looked up from the computer at which she was seated, and smiled wearily.

"Hey, Ryan. What are you still doing here?"

Ryan Wolfe barely stifled a yawn as he pulled a chair over to sit down beside his colleague.

"I was about to ask you the same thing. I was waiting for the DNA results on the Bellows murder. I promised Horatio that I'd have the analysis to him first thing tomorrow."

Calleigh smiled sympathetically, and then nodded to the computer monitor in front of her.

"Horatio asked me to run a check on a couple of detectives that are down here from New York. Apparently one of them is Richard Goren's younger brother."

Ryan blinked in surprise.

"Goren has a brother? And he's a cop? That's just great. That's all we need…"

"Well, according to what Horatio said, Richard's little brother isn't all that eager to help him out. It's his friend, Detective Logan, who seems to have the interest in Richard. Oh my…"

"What is it?" Ryan asked, leaning in to look. A moment later, his eyebrows shot up as he took in the incident report that detailed the assault that had resulted in Bobby and Mike being trapped inside a condemned building. Ryan whistled softly as he scanned the report.

"Wow. Those guys have been through some serious hell together."

"It doesn't explain why they want to talk to Richard Goren so badly, though," Calleigh mused.

"Horatio worried that they might interfere in our investigation?" Ryan wondered and Calleigh nodded.

"Partly… But I think he's also worried that they might land themselves in trouble. You know what Horatio's like when we have a case that's linked in any way to the Mal Noche."

Ryan grimaced. He knew, all right. Yawning again, he got awkwardly to his feet.

"I'm going to go and check on those results. I'll see you tomorrow, Calleigh."

Calleigh nodded in reply.

"Mm. 'Night, Ryan."

Then he was gone, and she was alone again. A slight frown creased her features as she scrolled through the police records of each detective. With the exception of the incident she'd just read about, there didn't appear to be anything particularly unusual in their records. There was nothing here to tell her what possible interest Detective Logan might have in Richard Goren.

It was even more confusing that Horatio had indicated that whatever the reasons were, they seemed to be personal rather than professional. It made no sense, no sense whatsoever.

Still frowning, she printed out the information she'd managed to gather, and went to find Horatio.

* * *

_Much later that evening_

"That was a great little club, Bobby," Carolyn said with a happy sigh as they headed slowly away from the club. Bobby smiled, pleased that she'd enjoyed herself. They walked close together, with Bobby clinging to his walking stick with one hand, whilst holding Carolyn close to him with the other. At some point through the evening, his arm had found its way across her shoulders, and neither one of them seemed in a hurry to move it off again.

"I'm glad you liked it," he said, still smiling. "I'll take you back there again before we leave, if you like. I don't think we got to dance nearly enough…"

"Please," Mike retorted as he came up beside them, his own arm firmly around Alex's shoulders. "You two spent ninety percent of the time we were in the damn club on the dance floor! I had to eat your desserts!"

"Don't think I didn't notice that, Logan," Carolyn told him threateningly. "You owe me a Creme Brulee."

Mike snorted, but didn't argue. He glanced down, then, his attention going to his own date for the evening.

"Alex? How about you? You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

She glanced up at him curiously. He sounded genuinely anxious all of a sudden, and she was touched to realise that he really did care about her, and whether she'd had a good time. Favouring him with a warm, sincere smile, she squeezed him once, briefly, around the waist.

"I had a great time, Mike. I didn't know you were such a smooth dancer."

Mike looked over at Bobby, and grinned playfully at him.

"Guess it must be in the blood, huh?"

Bobby had to smile.

"It may be," he agreed.

They arrived at a corner, and Mike slowed to a halt, forcing all of them to stop as well.

"Hey, we're not going back to the hotel already, are we?" he asked almost plaintively. Bobby raised an eyebrow at him.

"You had somewhere in mind?"

"Well, no," Mike conceded, but there's got to be somewhere we can go. It's not even midnight yet!"

"Mike, don't be an idiot," Carolyn told him lightly. "Look at you, you're already starting to limp again!"

"That's what Vicodin is for, sweetheart," Mike told her with a grin, but Carolyn wasn't amused.

"Not a chance, lover-boy. You know the Vicodin is only for when the pain is really bad. This doesn't qualify."

"Where did you _want_ to go?" Alex asked as Mike's expression melted into one of disappointment. "After all, we've already done the dinner and dancing thing."

Mike looked around, frowning. Then, his face lit up once more as he spotted a likely possibility.

"How about there?"

They looked to see where he was indicating, and Bobby had to fight the sudden urge to groan aloud. The place Mike had spotted was a poker bar and pool hall – just the kind of place that Richie was likely to frequent. He expected either Alex or Carolyn to lambast Mike over his suggestion, and was stunned when Carolyn nodded.

"Sure… Why not?"

"Dressed like this?" Alex asked doubtfully, but Carolyn was already urging Bobby in the direction of the bar.

"Why not?" she said again. "Anyone tried to hit on us, and Mike and Bobby can beat them with their walking sticks. Right, boys?"

"Absolutely," Mike agreed enthusiastically. And, firing a triumphant look at Bobby, Mike ushered both Alex and Carolyn across the road to the bar. After a long, indecisive moment, Bobby sighed in defeat and followed.

* * *

"I don't know why Mike bothers challenging you to pool, Bobby," Alex said with a chuckle as Bobby racked up the balls for a third game. "He always loses."

"I think he's under some warped impression that I'll start letting him win a few because he's my brother," Bobby mused as he lined the pool balls up on the table. "Either that, or he's hoping he can get me drunk enough to beat me. Where is he, anyway?"

"He said he was getting another round of drinks," Carolyn said. "Although, it looks like he's getting pretty chummy with the bartender. They've been talking for a good five minutes now."

Bobby looked around with a frown and, sure enough, there was Mike at the bar, deep in conversation with the bartender. As he watched, Mike pulled what looked like a photo from his jacket, and showed the other man. Feeling a rush of anger, Bobby abandoned the pool table and headed over to the bar.

* * *

Mike never saw Bobby coming. The only warning he had was the startled look on the face of the bartender before a hand slammed down on his shoulder, jerking him around roughly.

"Where the hell did you get this?" Bobby demanded angrily, snatching the photo of Richie Goren out of Mike's hand. Mike, for his part, had the decency to look guilty.

"I might have grabbed it from your bedroom... After we heard that Richie was in Miami... I figured it might help to have a picture of him... You know... If we had to look for him..."

For a split second, Mike thought Bobby was going to hit him, and he braced himself for the anticipated, albeit well-deserved punch. It never came. Looking warily at his younger brother, Mike was struck painfully by the disappointment in Bobby's expression.

"You went behind my back."

It wasn't a question, and Mike suddenly found himself feeling distinctly queasy.

"I'm sorry, Bobby. I..."

"Don't," Bobby said flatly. "Just... don't."

Turning, he headed back to the pool table. Swearing softly, Mike followed.

* * *

"Problem?" Alex asked quietly, with no hint of attitude or snark to her voice. Bobby was stony-faced as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on.

"We're going back to the hotel. Now."

Alex and Carolyn exchanged baffled looks. They then looked to Mike, but he offered no protest, and the guilty look on his face spoke a thousand words.

Silence fell as they gathered their things to head back to the hotel. They had just reached the door of the bar, with Bobby in the lead, when the door swung open and a man matching Bobby's height and build walked in. Both men froze, and two pairs of brown eyes that were so much alike stared at each other in shock. The newcomer recovered first, and a sneer spread across his face, twisting what might have otherwise been handsome features.

"Lookit here... It's the runt... Fancy meeting you here, runt."

"Richie," Bobby said tonelessly in greeting. Behind him, he felt more than heard the astonishment of the others.

"You're not leaving yet, are ya, Bobby boy?" Richie said in an unnecessarily loud voice and, before Bobby could protest, Richie slung an arm around his shoulders and forcefully wheeled him around, herding him roughly past Mike, Alex and Carolyn and back over to the bar. Exchanging looks, the three detectives turned away from the door and followed in watchful silence.

At the bar, Bobby finally pulled out of Richie's grasp, barely able to conceal his disgust and anger.

"What's the matter, runt?" Richie asked as he thumped on the bar to get the attention of the bartender. "You not happy to see your big brother? Hey! I want whiskey, now! Doubles, for me and my little brother here."

"No," Bobby said sharply. "I don't drink whiskey."

Richie snorted loudly.

"Bullshit you don't."

Bobby grimaced as a double shot of whiskey was placed in front of him, and he pushed it away.

"I told you, I don't drink whiskey."

"Fine," Richie muttered. "I'll drink it, then. Fuck you. I'm just trying to be friendly."

"Richie," Bobby started to say, but his breath catching in his throat. Richie looked sideways at him.

"What the fuck do you want, Bobby? What the hell are you doing here? This is my territory. Not yours, you fucking little runt."

That was all Mike could take, and pulled away from Alex and Carolyn to step up to the bar beside Bobby, intending on giving Bobby the support that he had promised him. Richie blinked in vague surprise as he found himself staring into a pair of hostile, green eyes.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Mike Logan," he introduced himself with icy civility. "That's Detective Logan to you, asshole."

Richie grunted, unimpressed by Mike's attempt to assert his authority.

"You work with the runt, do you? My condolences."

Mike opened his mouth to speak again, but a warning glance from Bobby silenced him. Satisfied that he'd managed to reign Mike in, at least for the moment, Bobby returned his attention to his oldest brother. Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of Alex and Carolyn waiting just beyond the immediate boundaries of this little confrontation. He hoped and prayed they would stay there, and not get involved. That they wouldn't do anything to bring themselves to Richie's attention.

"I'm not here catch up, Richie. I need to ask you something. That's all."

"Uh huh," Richie said. "You and your bodyguard here?"

"We just want to ask a few questions, and then we'll be gone," Bobby said tightly. Richie turned to look at Bobby, then. His gaze went briefly to Mike, and then returned to Bobby once more.

"So it's a few questions now, is it? These questions... How much is it worth to you to get answers?"

"How much is it worth to you for us _not_ to call the MDPD, and tell them where you are?" Mike growled. Richie's expression darkened slightly and he looked back to his drink.

"So how's Mom doing, runt? Insane as ever? You know, you always took after her more than you did Dad."

Bobby tensed visibly, but admirably kept his cool.

"Mom's doing okay, not that you give a damn."

"You're right," Richie snorted. "I don't."

Bobby drew in a long, steadying breath as he struggled to keep his cool. Less than five minutes with Richie, and he already remembered with almost painful clarity why he'd never wanted anything more to do with him. Damn Mike for forcing the issue...

"We need to ask you something, Richie. Something that you might remember... about Dad."

Richie turned again, swinging around on the barstool to stare Bobby down.

"And what if I don't care to answer? Hm? What are you gonna do, runt? Sic your rottweiler here onto me?"

Bobby didn't hesitate. He didn't dare, for fear he'd lose his nerve entirely. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a card, and read the name on it.

"Lieutenant Horatio Caine."

Richie winced, a reaction that was very visible to both Bobby and Mike. The detectives exchanged glances, and Mike spoke with a hint of smugness.

"Sounds like that name's familiar to you, Richie."

With his other hand, Bobby withdrew his cell phone from another pocket.

"I'm getting an urge to call him... A really powerful urge. What do you think, Mike? You think I ought to call him?"

"Oh, yeah," Mike agreed, not taking his eyes off Richie as he spoke. "I really think you should, Bobby."

"Okay!" Richie exploded, his face darker than a thundercloud. "I get it! All right! Ask your fucking questions. And then get the fuck outta my face!"

Bobby nodded, and though his outward appearance was come, on the inside he was a mess. Now, more than ever, he wanted to get this over with, and get the hell out of Dodge. Screw their week's holiday. All of a sudden, he didn't want to be within a hundred miles of Richie.

"Before I was born, when you were maybe six or seven, do you remember Dad being around then?"

"What the fuck do you mean, do I remember him being around?"

"What he means," Mike snapped, "is was he screwing around with someone?"

Richie fell suddenly quiet as he looked from Bobby, to Mike, and back to Bobby again.

"You want to know if Dad was having an affair before you were born? Why?"

"Just answer the question," Bobby said impatiently, but Richie shook his head.

"Uh uh. No, you answer me, and then I'll consider answering yours. Why do you want to know? I mean, it's not like it's going to benefit Mom in any way... or you either, for that matter. What the fuck does it matter if he was or not?"

"So, you're saying he was?" Mike pressed, and Richie glanced at him irritably.

"I didn't say that. Who the fuck did you say you were, again?"

"Logan," Mike answered coolly. "Mike Logan."

And then they saw it. A flash of recognition in Richie's eyes as he stared at Mike. It wasn't much, and it only lasted a second, but it was there and they both saw it.

"What?" Bobby asked, suddenly feeling distinctly unsettled. "What do you remember?"

"Nothing," Richie said softly, his tone flat and emotionless as he continued to stare at Mike. "Not a fucking thing."

He stood up abruptly.

"I'm outta here. It's been great, Bobby. Let's do this again in another... what, ten years?"

"Whoa," Mike growled, stepping in to block Richie's retreat, and ignoring the concern that lit up Bobby's eyes. "We haven't finished yet, pal."

Richie's expression had become downright dangerous by then.

"Yeah. We have, _Detective_. Now, get the fuck out of my way. I'm leaving."

"I said, we're not finished," Mike growled, desperate not to let Richie go when it had suddenly become clear that he did know something after all.

It happened fast, and neither Bobby nor Mike saw it coming. One moment, Richie and Mike had been standing in a face-off, neither one backing down. The next, Mike was suddenly on the floor after Richie's fist collided with the side of his head in a brutal punch. Richie smirked down at Mike, who was out cold from the sheer force of the blow.

"We're finished." He looked around at Bobby, who had started forward in anger, and a look was all it needed to bring his younger brother grinding to a complete halt. "That's right, runt. Don't even about it. You might be a fucking cop, but unless you're carrying a gun on you somewhere, I'll still kick your ass from here to eternity. No? I didn't think so."

Richie turned to go, then seemed to think twice about it. Turning back, he delivered a vicious kick to Mike's chest, and another to his head, sending a spray of blood across the floor from Mike's mouth. Then, with a laugh, he sauntered out of the bar.

"Jesus, Mike," Carolyn gasped as she dropped to the floor next to her felled partner.

"Call an ambulance," Bobby told the bartender, before turning back to his unconscious brother.

"Bobby, why didn't you stop him?" Alex asked softly, and though her tone wasn't accusing, there was still confusion in it. "You could have stopped him. Why did you just let him go?"

In his anger, frustration and concern for Mike, Bobby rounded on her angrily.

"Me? Why didn't _you_, Eames? I've seen you bring down guys twice your size. Don't tell me you're that much intimidated by Richie."

She froze, her face as mask as she processed his words, and then his tone. Finally, she fell on the side of sympathy, and squeezed his hand in gentle reassurance.

"I guess I just paid attention when you talked about Richie."

The anger melted from Bobby's face like warm butter, and his shoulders slumped as he watched Carolyn try to tend to her partner.

"That's more than Mike did, then," Bobby said bitterly. He glanced down at his healing leg for emphasis. "I'm not exactly at full strength, and secondly... I can't fight Richie. I never could. I warned Mike from the start about this. Damned idiot had to learn the hard way, though, didn't he?"

"There's an ambulance on its way," the bartender told them. "Cops are coming, too. Listen, I'll give a statement, tell them it wasn't provoked. You guys were just talking, that's all."

"Thanks," Bobby murmured in appreciation, wishing not for the first time that they were back home in New York, and as far away from Richie as was humanly possible.

* * *

_tbc..._


	10. A Hard Lesson

Horatio arrived at the ER of Miami Dade General after hearing the call of dispatch for an officer assault. Though the officer who had been assaulted had not been identified, Horatio still felt obliged to go. Technically, he might have been off-duty by then, but his protective instinct compelled him to go and see whether he could assist in any way. When he walked into the ER waiting room and saw three of the four detectives he had spoken to earlier that day, he knew in his gut that they had disregarded him after all, and gone looking for Richie. Doing his best to suppress the deep feeling of displeasure and annoyance he was experiencing, Horatio walked over to talk to them.

"Heads up," Alex murmured, seeing Horatio coming towards them. "The shit's about to hit the fan. Here comes that Lieutenant Caine."

Bobby turned around just as Horatio joined them. The lieutenant certainly didn't look happy, and Bobby supposed he couldn't blame him. Although, in their defence, running into Richie _had_ been entirely coincidental…

"Lieutenant Caine."

Horatio nodded placidly.

"Detective Goren. Can I assume that it was Detective Logan who was the victim of the assault that was called in?"

Bobby looked more than a little uncomfortable, Horatio noted and, dare he think, a little bit guilty?

"Yes. We… had an incident at a bar we stopped at after dinner."

"Was it Richie?"

Bobby looked defeated.

"Yes," he admitted glumly. "It was Richie."

Horatio couldn't suppress his irritation, then.

"You went looking for him, didn't you? Even after I warned you against it…"

"No, Lieutenant," Carolyn spoke up quickly in Bobby's defence. "As a matter of fact, we didn't go looking for him. It was pure dumb luck."

"But you didn't bother calling me," Horatio said, his focus still on Bobby. Even though he was considerably taller than Horatio, Bobby seemed to wither under the other man's stare.

"It all happened so fast," Bobby muttered, hating how pathetic the excuse sounded.

"Excuse me?"

They looked around to see a doctor approaching them.

"You're the folks that are here for Mike Logan?" he asked, and Bobby nodded.

"Yes. Is he okay?"

The doctor looked uncertain.

"I really should speak to a family member before I talk to anyone else. I don't suppose you have contact information?"

At that, Alex and Carolyn looked to Bobby expectantly. Bobby sighed softly, and quietly cursed the timing of Horatio's arrival. So much for discretion…

"I am family, Doctor. Mike is my brother."

The doctor, however, nodded dismissively.

"I understand the concept of brotherhood with the police, but I mean actual, proper family."

Bobby's expression hardened slightly.

"Mike _is_ my brother, and I'm not talking about the thin blue line here. We're half brothers. I'm the only family he has. Now, will you please tell me what's happening to him?"

The doctor looked momentarily startled before conceding with a nod.

"I'm sorry. He's going to be fine, although he may have a headache for a few days. He was very lucky, actually. The worst he's sustained is a concussion, and a couple of broken teeth. With the kick to the head that he took, it could have been a lot worse. We're going to keep him here tonight, and then I'll see how he is tomorrow before I sign off on his release."

"Can I see him?"

The doctor nodded slowly.

"I guess so. He's awake, but be aware that he may not be entirely coherent. And, I'd prefer if just one of you went through at the moment."

"Go ahead, Bobby," Alex told him. "Carolyn and I will wait here."

Bobby nodded gratefully and followed the doctor back into the ER. After just a moment's hesitation, Horatio followed.

* * *

"Don't say it," Mike moaned when Bobby appeared at his side. Bobby couldn't help it, and a wry smile found its way onto his lips.

"Don't say what, Mike? That you're an idiot who doesn't know when to shut up and back off? We already knew that, buddy."

Mike groaned and shut his eyes against the over-bright fluorescent lights of the ER.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Happy?"

Bobby's smile fade as he looked down at his brother's battered features.

"No. I'm going to kick Richie's ass so hard when I get a hold of him that he'll never want to lay a finger on you again."

"That's sweet," Mike mumbled. "Baby brother's gone all protective."

"Don't mock me, Mikey."

"Then shut up, Robert. You're giving me a headache."

"No, you already had a headache."

"Oh. Right. Crap, my head hurts. What'd the doctor tell you?"

"That you've got a concussion, and a couple of broken teeth. They're getting a room ready for you. You have to stay overnight."

At that, Mike started up.

"The hell I am… Aw, crap…"

He collapsed back on the gurney as a sickening wave of pain, dizziness and nausea swept through him. Bobby couldn't resist a smirk.

"You were saying?"

"Ah, shut up."

"So, you really are brothers."

Bobby looked around, and groaned softly at the sight of Horatio standing there, watching them.

"Yes, Lieutenant Caine," he confirmed ruefully. "We're really brothers."

Horatio walked over to stand at the end of the bed, looking thoughtfully from Bobby to Mike, and then back to Bobby again.

"And you were planning on telling me this when…?"

"Try, never," Mike mumbled. "It was none of your damn business."

"Mike, don't," Bobby said with a sigh. "It is his business when it interferes with his investigation, and that's exactly what we did tonight, whether we intended to or not."

"We didn't go looking for Richie," Mike pointed out. "He found us."

"So I've been informed," Horatio conceded. "But that doesn't change the fact that one of you should have contacted me immediately. I don't appreciate being kept out of the loop, gentlemen."

"We're sorry," Bobby apologised sincerely for both of them, and Horatio's stern expression softened some.

"Apology accepted. Now, do you think you might be willing to tell me the truth?"

"Truth?" Bobby echoed, as though he had no idea what Horatio was talking about.

"Yes, Detective Goren. The truth. Why do you want to talk to Richie so badly? What are you hoping to get out of him?"

"Answers," Mike answered finally when Bobby did not.

"Answers to what?" Horatio asked.

"To my parentage. Look, here's the deal," Mike said with weary resignation. "We just found out we're brothers a little over two weeks ago. A little over two weeks ago, I found out that my mom had an affair, and that the guy I thought was my father, isn't. I want to know how my mom got together with his… I mean, with our father, and Richie is the only one still around who might be able to give me some answers. I know, it's stupid, and I know I'm an idiot for chasing this, but it's just something I have to know."

"As a matter of fact, Detective Logan," Horatio said quietly, "I think I do understand where you're coming from, and I don't think it's stupid at all. Perhaps we can come to an agreement… I'll work with you, and help you get the answers you want, but I need you both to reciprocate that courtesy by not searching out Richie on your own."

"What is he involved in?" Bobby asked, frowning.

"Have either of you heard of the Mal Noche?" Horatio asked. Mike answered no, but Bobby nodded slowly.

"Miami mafia," he said. "They're Miami's equivalent of the Masucci family in New York."

"Correct, Detective Goren. They're also considerably more violent, and your brother has fallen in with them. He's running with some very dangerous people, gentlemen, and believe me when I tell you he's been behaving accordingly."

"The manslaughter charge?" Bobby wondered.

"Yes, but we also have investigations pending against Richie for violent assaults committed during a number of robberies, all of which we believe were orchestrated by the Mal Noche."

"To get funds for drugs?" Mike asked, pushing himself up just a little so that he could see Horatio more clearly.

"Partly, yes," Horatio confirmed, "but also to fund the purchase of weapons."

Bobby frowned deeply.

"Richie was only ever into gambling," he said. "The trouble he got himself into over that was bad enough, but he was never into big league stuff like drugs and guns. Definitely not assault… or murder."

"You mean, aside from that time he stabbed you over the drugs?" Mike put in, winning himself a glare from Bobby. Horatio raised an eyebrow at him.

"He stabbed you?"

"That's in the past," Bobby said dismissively, and Mike snorted loudly.

"Like hell it is." And then, to Horatio; "When Bobby was still with Narcotics, Richie came to him looking for drugs. When Bobby told him no, Richie stabbed him… how many times, Bobby?"

Bobby studiously ignored Mike. Horatio's interest, however, was piqued.

"He wanted the drugs for himself?"

"No. I'm pretty sure he wanted them to sell, to pay off a gambling debt."

"Well," Horatio said, "that's how he fell in with the Mal Noche. His debts were sold to the Mal Noche. To begin with, they just called on him for favours to pay off the debts. Now, as near as we can tell, he'd paid off what was owed, and now he's employed by the Mal Noche as a low ranking soldier."

"Low ranking," Mike retorted. "Sounds about right."

"The point, gentlemen, is that even a bottom-of-the-ladder pawn in the Mal Noche still has the protection that being Mal Noche affords. Richie might not have been accepted completely into their ranks yet – he's still a probationary, so to speak – but he's working towards it. And if the Mal Noche see the two of you as a threat to him, you _will_ be in danger."

"We don't want to cause trouble, Lieutenant," Bobby said quietly. "We just want to get a personal issue resolved, and get the hell out of here."

Horatio nodded in sympathy and understanding.

"Fair enough. We'll work together on this, then. Agreed?"

Bobby and Mike exchanged glances, and Bobby nodded and spoke for both of them.

"Agreed."

* * *

_Early in the morning_

"So, who were those guys in the bar?"

Richie grunted as he settled into the back seat of the Cadillac.

"No one important. Just my little brother, and one of his buddies."

Rico turned sharply in his seat, looking back at Richie with a dark frown.

"Your brother? You said your brother's a cop in New York."

"Yeah. So what?"

"So… What the fuck is he doing in Miami?"

"Sight-seeing? How the fuck should I know?"

Rico's expression turned downright dangerous.

"Don't you mouth off to me, man. Tell me what he wanted?"

Richie sighed.

"He wanted to know about something that happened before he was born… when I was just a kid. The guy that was with him… his name is Logan. He's Bobby's half brother."

"We don't need this," Rico growled. "We don't need this complication."

"Relax, Rico. They're not interested in what's going down here. It's family matters, man. That's all."

"They're cops, asshole. Of course they're interested. And if they're looking for you, that could mean problems for us. And that's not acceptable. Is it, Richie?"

"No, Rico," Richie conceded with a sigh. "It's not. So, what do you want me to do? Try scare them out of town?"

Rico snorted derisively.

"They're New York cops, fool. Totally dumb shit that don't know when to let something drop. You ain't gonna be able to scare them off. No, we gotta deal with them so they can't interfere. You know… make an example of them. Maybe we can send a message to Horatio Caine at the same time."

Richie was silent for a long moment. He knew what Rico meant without having to ask.

"We're going to kill them?"

"Yeah, Richie. We're going to kill them. And _you're_ going to do it. This is it, my friend. Your ticket into the Mal Noche. You kill your stinking cop brothers, and we'll know you're a hundred percent loyal to us. You don't…"

He trailed off, leaving the threat unspoken. Richie looked away, out the window, disturbed by the ultimatum he had just been delivered. Sure, Bobby wasn't high on his list of favourite people… Actually, truth was he hated the fucking little runt with a passion. But kill him? That was a step that he really wasn't sure he was willing to take.

On the other hand, he mused, it would be a stepping stone into the Mal Noche, and that was something he desperately wanted. It was his ticket to money, power, and protection. A small, tight smile spread across his face as he made his decision.

"Okay," he told Rico. "I'm good for it. But we do it my way, you hear? I'm not just going to grab a gun and shoot them down. There are some things I want Bobby to know before he dies, and I want to be the one to tell him. I want to see his face when I tell him. I want to see the despair in his face."

"Okay. Any suggestions as to how we get a hold of him for you to be able to do that?"

"Well, they'll still be looking for me, so I guess all I have to do is set up shop somewhere, and wait for them to come to me. And when they do, I'll be able to have some real fun with them…" Richie's face positively lit up with sadistic delight. "It'll be just like old times. I'll remind the son of a bitch just why he was so fucking scared of me when we were kids."

Rico smirked. This was why he put up with Richie. The guy had a sadistic streak a mile wide that only needed a little bit of prodding to appear.

"Okay, man. We do it your way. Congratulations, Richie. You're on your way to being a true Mal Noche."

Richie grinned and settled back in his seat. That was what it was all about for him, and if he had to sacrifice his little brother to get it, then so be it. That was how it had to be.

* * *

_tbc..._


	11. Compromises

"I still can't believe you managed to convince Mike to stay at the hospital," Carolyn said wryly as they walked back into their hotel suite, escorted there personally by Horatio. Bobby didn't smile as he answered.

"I didn't need to. He argued with the doctor, and the doctor gave him said he could leave if he could walk more than five steps without falling over."

"And?" Alex wondered.

"He made it three steps," Bobby answered. "He gave in when he needed to be picked up off the floor and put back in bed."

"Bobby?" Alex asked quietly, sensing the disquiet in him. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer immediately. All of a sudden, his memories slipped away, back to over a month ago, when he had watched helplessly as Mike struggled to his feet in that god-forsaken cage, only to collapse to the floor, unable to get up again. He'd joined Mike on the cold, hard floor, then, and for the first time both of them had truly lost all hope of being rescued.

They had both honestly thought that was it, then. Both too weak to get up, with Mike bleeding internally and he himself suffering potentially fatal blood poisoning, and all the while waiting for the nearby explosives to be detonated, bringing the building down on top of them.

He knew he'd lost consciousness and slipped into the near fatal coma well before that had happened, but he also knew that Mike had remained awake until the last, when a slab of concrete had very nearly crushed the life out of them both. For his part, he had distinct memories of confusion upon waking up in the hospital to the realisation that he wasn't dead. It was a happy enough realisation, especially waking up to find Alex beside him, but his fears had not been allayed until they brought Mike in, and he was able to see with his own eyes that his brother was okay.

Of course, he hadn't known at that point that he and Mike were brothers but, truth be told, their experience had bonded them together like brothers regardless, and his memories now of the way Mike had suffered over those two days was like a real physical pain to him. Seeing Mike injured again, this time at the hands of their own brother, was another kick in the gut that he didn't want or need.

A hand on his forearm brought him back to the present, and he blinked and looked around to find Alex, Carolyn and Horatio all watching him.

"Bad memories?" Alex asked gently. Bobby suddenly found he had to struggle to control his emotions.

"I tried to warn Mike," he said in a strained voice as he dropped unceremoniously onto the sofa. "I tried to warn him... tell him what Richie was like."

"He seems like a very determined man," Horatio said.

"He is," Carolyn confirmed ruefully. "Bobby, you know what he's like. He's like a bulldog. Once he gets his teeth into something..."

Bobby shook his head.

"When all of this started, he asked me to trust him... and I did. But he doesn't trust me. If he did, he would have listened to me. I need him to trust me, or Richie will eat him alive."

"You're wrong, Bobby," Alex said quietly. "He does trust you. I think he probably trusts you more than anyone. But you also know that Carolyn is right. Mike is damned stubborn, and right now he just can't see beyond his need to find out the truth."

"Can I ask what happened to the two of you?" Horatio asked. Carolyn and Alex hesitated, both of them looking towards Bobby. For several seconds, Bobby sat on the sofa, staring at the floor. Finally, abruptly, he pushed himself to his feet and disappeared into his and Mike's bedroom without saying a word.

"I'm sorry about that, Lieutenant," Alex murmured. "It's still pretty raw with both of them. They were nearly killed."

"Don't apologise," Horatio told her. "I think I understand."

The women exchanged looks again, and then Carolyn indicated for Horatio to sit, which he did.

"Bobby and Mike were ambushed outside a bar in the Bronx on a Friday night," Carolyn explained. "They were assaulted, shot, and abducted. The men who attacked them locked them in a cage in a building that was scheduled for demolition that same weekend. They were left with just enough water to keep them alive until the demolition."

"You rescued them, though," Horatio said, and both Alex and Carolyn smiled grimly.

"We weren't in time to stop the demolition," Alex said. "It had already started when we got there. The only thing that saved Bobby and Mike was a malfunction with one of the explosives packs. It gave the demolition crew a chance to go in and find them. Even then it was nearly too late. They were both more dead than alive. Mike had to be put on a respirator because of a perforated lung, and he nearly lost his right hand... and Bobby spent a week in a coma that he nearly didn't wake up from."

"Not good," Horatio murmured, and Alex laughed softly, bitterly.

"That's a very big understatement. Something happened between them during that weekend, though. I told you that Bobby was comatose? Well, he deteriorated to the point where the decision was made to turn off his life support. He was pronounced brain dead by his doctor, and the life support was turned off. He never responded to any of us... but Mike was left alone with him for just a few minutes, and a couple of hours after that, Bobby was awake."

"And this was before they found out that they were brothers?" Horatio asked, fascinated by the story.

"That's right," Carolyn confirmed. "We all spent a week begging Bobby not to die, and he never listened to any of us. Mike went in and told him to quit being a jackass and wake the hell up, and he did. They might have found out now that they're brothers, Lieutenant, but they'd already formed that bond before they found out."

"Can I ask how they came to find out about being brothers?"

"It happened by mistake," Alex explained. "When our CSU was investigating what had happened, one of their techs ran a DNA comparison from the blood and DNA samples that were taken from the car that Bobby and Mike were transported in. Our head of CSU..."

"Mack Taylor?" Horatio queried, and Alex nodded.

"Yes, that's right. You know him?"

"We've worked together," he confirmed. "He's a good man."

"He is," Carolyn conceded, "but he's still not too popular with Mike. When he saw the results of the DNA comparison, he came personally to get fresh DNA samples from Bobby and Mike to run a new test. He was hoping the results would turn out to be different. He insisted on getting the sample from Mike, even though Mike was hypersensitive at the time. They heard him screaming from the other side of the ICU wing."

Horatio winced, and wisely made no attempt to try and offer any justification.

"The point is," Alex went on wearily, "that they're close, and because this is such an issue for Mike, Bobby has made it an issue for himself as well. Our captain had us come with them to try and minimise the damage. We need your help with that, Lieutenant. The sooner we get this resolved, the sooner we can go home and put it behind us."

Horatio nodded in understanding and sympathy.

"I'll do what I can. But I also need you ladies to keep an eye on your partners, and what you can to keep them reigned in. As I explained to them at the hospital, Richie Goren has fallen in with a very violent crew known as the Mal Noche, and there is a very real danger that the four of you may be targeted by them as a result."

Alex and Carolyn glanced uneasily at each other. All of a sudden, clearing out of Miami and heading home to New York seemed like a very attractive option.

"We understand," was all Alex said quietly, soberly.

* * *

A few minutes later, Horatio let himself out after promising to arrange for a police presence at the hotel. Bobby hadn't emerged from his room, and neither Alex nor Carolyn were keen to go in after him. They had more to be concerned with in terms of letting their captain know what had happened.

"What's this?" Carolyn wondered as Alex tossed her one of the cell phones.

"It's called a phone," Alex said dryly. "You call people on it. In this case, you call the captain and tell him Mike got himself hospitalised by Richie."

"Oh no," Carolyn burst out. "No, I'm not making _that_ phone call."

"It's your turn," Alex pointed out bluntly. "Don't forget, I made the call to tell him about this little trip in the first place."

"Alex…"

Alex, however, was unrelenting.

"_Your_ turn."

Grimacing, Carolyn made the call.

* * *

In the bedroom, Bobby listened half-heartedly to the murmur of voices from the other room for a few minutes before finally shutting them out altogether. He was sorry for walking out on Horatio Caine like that, when the lieutenant was making a genuine effort to help them. It wasn't even that he couldn't bring himself to speak about those couple of days. He could talk about them – at least, what he remembered of them.

No, his issues lay firmly in the present, cemented in fear for what was coming.

Richie had very clearly shown that he hadn't changed at all from how Bobby remembered him. If anything, he'd gotten worse, and the news that he had fallen in with the Mal Noche only served to heighten his fears.

But there was something else, something more. That spark of recognition that he and Mike had seen in Richie's eyes. It had only been a split second, but they'd both seen it. Richie knew something. He didn't know what it might be, but it was something significant enough that Richie had been willing to attack Mike rather than simply tell them. It made him sick to his stomach, wondering what it was that Richie wasn't telling them, and just how far Mike would be willing to go to figure it out.

He was afraid, acutely afraid, that Mike's determination would get him killed.

Bobby shut his eyes, drawing in long, deep breaths in an effort to keep from panicking. He had gone through the grieving process long ago when he'd come to the realisation that Richie would never be the caring big brother that he had craved. It seemed that he'd found that now in Mike, and he honestly didn't know how he would do if he lost Mike now.

He would not try to stop Mike from getting the answers he wanted, Bobby decided finally, but there was one thing he was certain of. He was not going to let Richie rob him of this new family that he'd found; not without one hell of a fight.

* * *

_tbc..._


	12. Bait

_The next day_

"So, what did the captain have to say when you told him?" Mike asked the following day when they collected him from the hospital and returned to their hotel. He paused, eyeing the others in grim amusement. "Or, didn't you tell him?"

At that, Alex snorted loudly.

"Captain Deakins is _not_ a man you can keep secrets from. You, of all people, ought to know that by now, Mike. No, we told him, and I think he damn near hit the roof."

"He didn't order us home, did he?" Mike asked, suddenly apprehensive.

"No," Bobby reassured him, "but apparently we're to cooperate fully with Lieutenant Caine. And that includes doing whatever he tells us to do."

"His exact words," Alex added, "were 'if you go anywhere near Richie Goren without Lieutenant Caine's knowledge, I'll have no problem with him arresting both of your idiot partners for interfering with an ongoing investigation, and you women are _not_ to bail them out'."

"Ouch," Mike muttered. "Cold. But what if we... you know... run into him unintentionally?"

"Handcuffs were brought into the conversation more than once," Carolyn said calmly. "They worked once before. Captain said we were to go ahead and do it again, if we felt we had to."

At that, both Mike and Bobby exchanged uneasy glances, unsettled primarily because they knew damn well that Alex and Carolyn would go ahead and do it if they believed there was no other option.

"He also said he'll kick all our asses personally," Carolyn added, "and he won't wait until we're back in New York to do it. So, you have to behave yourself, Mike. Otherwise we'll have the captain coming down here personally."

"Him behave," Bobby retorted. "That's rich."

A moment later, he yelped indignantly when Alex whapped him across the head.

"Don't go there, Goren," she growled. "You're just as big a pain in the ass as he is. And need I remind you that Mike's antics in the hospital never hurt anyone? But _your_ brilliant idea nearly took out two nurses and another patient."

"Not to mention nearly extended his own stay," Carolyn said.

"I told you we should have used the gym," Mike chimed in, much to Bobby's irritation.

"Can we forget that, please?" he grumbled. "Anyway, at least we didn't leave the floor. It was Mike's idea to sneak out of the hospital and go to Starbucks, and that _did_ get us handcuffed to our beds."

"But the coffee was worth it," Mike said with a sigh.

* * *

"_But the coffee was worth it_..."

"Are these guys really detectives?" Eric Delko asked incredulously as he, Calleigh, Tripp and Horatio listened to the ensuing conversation through the surveillance equipment that they had set up in the room immediately next to the four detectives.

"They're not just detectives, Eric," Horatio murmured as he adjusted the volume. "They're part of the NYPD's Major Case Squad."

"These guys are the elite of the NYPD," Tripp added, with sincere respect in his voice. "They might not sound like it right now, but that guy in particular, Goren, has an arrest and conviction rate that's second to none. I talked to a couple of buddies of mine from a homicide unit in New York earlier this morning, and the word is that very few of the cases he catches go to trial. He almost always breaks his suspects in the interrogation room. And the other guy, Logan... He's got a reputation for being a hot-head, but the guys say he's a damned good cop, and he's got experience that most of us could only dream of."

"And what about their partners?" Calleigh asked, unable to help sounding a little indignant. "Don't they rate in the equation?"

Tripp chuckled.

"They rate, Calleigh. Don't you worry. According to my buddies, Goren is a brilliant detective, but word is that he falls apart without Eames around. And they say that Barek is the first partner Logan has had who's really been able to keep him in check. The word is that without those women, these two guys would probably fall apart at the seams."

"You know," Calleigh went on quietly, "something tells me they're not going to be too happy when they find out we're using them as bait to trap both Richie Goren and Rico Peres."

"We're not using them as bait," Tripp growled. "And anyway, they're well protected. We've got a police presence here at the hotel, as well as unit to tail them if they leave the building."

"They're still gonna be pissed," Eric said in agreement with Calleigh. Horatio nodded.

"Yes, they probably will be. But at the moment Richie Goren is proving as difficult to track as his mentor, and we need to bring the both of them out into the open. These detectives have attracted Richie's attention and, as a consequence, I don't doubt that they have Rico Peres' attention as well. It wouldn't matter what we do now. You can be certain that these four have been targeted by the Mal Noche so, in reality, this is actually the best way to keep them safe."

Eric snorted.

"They're still bait, H, no matter how you say it. I just hope we don't get any of them killed."

Horatio looked grim as he returned his attention to the surveillance equipment.

"So do I, Eric. So do I."

* * *

"We're being followed," Alex said quietly as they headed out together for breakfast the next morning. Bobby nodded in agreement, taking care not to react obviously by looking behind them.

"I know. Almost from the moment we left our suite."

"Richie's buddies?" she wondered. On her other side, Mike gave a harsh chuckle.

"Not likely. No, they're cops, probably working for that Lieutenant Caine."

"Do we look like we need baby-sitters?" Alex growled in annoyance, and Mike snorted loudly in agreement. Bobby eyed them both with amusement.

"Do you really have to ask after what happened the other night?"

He felt gentle pressure on his left arm, and looked to find Carolyn had slipped her arm through his.

"Be nice," she chided him lightly. "What happened the other night wasn't deliberate on our part. You know that."

Bobby shot Mike a look, to which he responded indignantly.

"Hey, I didn't go into that bar expecting to find Richie."

"No," Bobby conceded, "but you hoped to. There's not a hell of a lot of difference there, Mike."

"Intention, Bobby. I didn't _intend_ on running into him. Not right then, at least."

Bobby grunted in reply, not even trying to hide his incredulity.

"Thin ice, Mikey."

"What, you don't believe your own brother?" Mike asked, trying to sound disappointed, and failing miserably. Bobby looked across at him with an ill-concealed smirk.

"You're full of hot air, Mike."

Mike grinned at that.

"Well, that's better than being full of something else. Are we going to pick some place soon? I need coffee, and I need to sit down, not necessarily in that order."

"How about that place over there?" Carolyn suggested, pointing to a small, cosy looking café that was advertising breakfast in its window. Alex nodded in acquiescence.

"Looks good. C'mon, before you two clowns collapse on us."

* * *

A few minutes later, they were comfortably seated, and waiting on coffee.

"Well, whoever's following us, they stayed outside," Alex murmured, favouring the waiter with a grateful smile as he set steaming cups of coffee in front of them.

"And they can just stay there," Mike muttered a touch sourly as he sipped at the hot liquid. "If Caine doesn't stay off our case…"

"Caine?" the waiter asked nervously, drawing their collective attention. "Do you mean… Lieutenant Horatio Caine…?"

"What if we do?" Mike asked tonelessly, watching the man with a piercing stare. The waiter glanced to the door, looking more unsettled by the second.

"He comes around… and business doesn't do so well. It's bad for business, having cops here. You… You're police?"

"Not in Miami, pal," Mike answered. "But don't even think of asking us to leave before we've finished our coffee."

"He's not going to ask you to leave," a new voice said, and they all looked to see a man sitting at the next table over, watching them with acute interest. "Go on, Carl. Go and get these good people the food they ordered."

Carl went without protest. Their mysterious benefactor smiled faintly.

"Please, you must excuse Carl. He and the Miami police do not have the best of relationships."

"Can't imagine why," Mike said dryly. The stranger chuckled softly.

"I like your sense of humour, Detective Logan."

Mike made no effort to hide the frown that found its way onto his face at that. Carolyn sat forward a little, unsettled that this stranger knew her partner's name.

"We didn't get your name."

"Because I didn't offer. But you can call me Marco." His gaze came to rest on Bobby. "Robert, isn't it? Richie's little brother?"

Although none of them reacted outwardly, all four detectives immediately went on alert.

"That's right," Bobby confirmed, ignoring the sharp look he got from Alex. Marco nodded placidly.

"Mm, I thought so. You look alike."

"What do you want?" Mike asked with a hint of impatience in his voice. "Because somehow I doubt that you're here for the pleasant conversation."

"Very perceptive," Marco said. "Tell me, why are you looking for Richie?"

"We wanna have a family reunion," Mike snapped, purposely ignoring a warning glare from Bobby.

Marco raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"Family… reunion?"

"It's personal business," Bobby said quietly, still frowning at Mike.

"Ah," Marco murmured. "So… _not_ police-related?"

Bobby answered with a single shake of his head, while at the same time a small part of him wondered if he wasn't making a serious mistake. The frigid look he was getting from Alex told him that he was, but again he ignored her. He knew he would have to pay the consequences of that later on, but his anxiety to get this over with so they could all go home was becoming overwhelming.

"No. It's not a police matter. We're not here as cops."

Marco nodded decisively.

"You know something, Detective? I believe you." He stood up and walked around to Bobby, and handed him a small slip of paper. "Be at that address this evening at seven o'clock, sharp, and don't be late. Richie will be there to answer your questions." He paused and, motioning to Mike, added, "Just you and him, though. Not the ladies."

"They don't go anywhere without us," Alex spoke up fiercely. "We're partners. It's not negotiable."

Marco, however, only smiled in response.

"Your loyalty to your men is commendable, ladies. But I was not kidding. They come tonight, alone, or there is no deal. And that means no police following you, either. This is just between us. No one else. Is that understood?"

"We got it," Mike said coolly, and Marco's grin widened.

"Very good. You New York cops are smarter than you look. Let's hope you continue to be smart. Play by our rules, gentlemen, and you'll leave this city in one piece. Try to be clever, and… well, do I really need to finish that sentence?"

"No," Bobby said softly. "You don't. We understand."

"Good," Marco murmured, smiling like a piranha about to go in for the kill. With a last look at each of them, he hurried out of the café, leaving them behind to sit in heavy, foreboding silence.

* * *

They arrived back at the hotel nearly an hour later to find Horatio Caine waiting for them at the door of their suite. No words were exchanged, and Alex opened the door and ushered the lieutenant inside.

"So, was it you watching us, or one of your lackeys?" Mike asked as he dropped heavily into one of the armchairs. To his credit, Horatio didn't take offence, and allowed a small smile to cross his features.

"That was me," he confirmed. "Very observant, Detective."

"Yeah, well, I'm not just a pretty face."

Mike didn't so much as crack a smile as he replied. He was tired, and both his leg and his head were starting to hurt him, a lot. Carolyn aptly read the signs and vanished briefly into her and Alex's room, only to reappear with a small bottle in hand. She withdrew two small pills, and dropped them into Mike's hand. He opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him short.

"Don't say a word, Mike. Just take them."

He did so with a defeated sigh.

"Vicodin?" Horatio inquired as he caught a glimpse of the label. "That's highly addictive."

"We know," Alex said. "That's why their doctors have left us in charge of it. They only get the Vicodin when the pain is really bad."

Horatio held back from mentioning that their partnerships had to be very close, if the doctors trusted them to know when the strong painkillers were really needed.

"You made contact with Marco Vega, correct?" he asked, turning his attention back to Bobby.

"He never gave a last name," Bobby answered as he lowered himself awkwardly into another armchair. "Just Marco."

"Well, his name is Marco Vega, and he's a foot soldier for the Mal Noche."

"We figured as much," Alex said.

"Can I ask what he spoke to you about?" Horatio inquired, and his query drew a derisive snort from Mike.

"You mean you weren't listening in?"

Again, a wry smile touched Horatio's lips.

"We were following you. We don't have you bugged."

The four detectives exchanged glances that suggested to Horatio that they didn't really believe that, but none of them disputed it. Instead, Bobby pulled the slip of paper from his pocket, and handed it to Horatio.

"Mike and I are supposed to be at that address tonight, at seven, to meet with Richie."

"Just the two of you?" Horatio asked, and Bobby nodded.

"Yes. That means no police, as well. No threats were actually made, but it was... _suggested_ that it'd be beneficial to our wellbeing to comply."

"If you think you're going to stop us..." Mike started to say, but Horatio shook his head, silencing his protest before it could find a voice.

"On the contrary, Detective Logan. I want you and Detective Goren to keep this appointment."

"You _what_?" Carolyn burst out. "Are you crazy? It's a trap of some sort! It must be!"

"I'm aware of that, Detective Barek," Horatio reassured her. "But we need to get Richie back in our custody, along with another very dangerous individual by the name of Rico Peres."

"And what?" Alex snapped. "You plan on using Mike and Bobby as bait? That isn't going to happen, Lieutenant."

"Alex..." Bobby started to protest, but she wasn't having any of it.

"No! Don't you argue with me, Bobby. You're still not a hundred percent fit. Neither is Mike, and it was proven the other night that neither of you can stand up to Richie."

"Thanks a lot," Mike grumbled.

"Shut up, Mike," Alex snapped, all the while not taking her eyes off Horatio. "This is not about your ego."

"I can assure you that they'll be well protected..." Horatio tried to assure her, but she cut him off angrily.

"That is bullshit, and you know it as well as we do. You can't protect them, not adequately. Tell us something, Lieutenant. When you followed us this morning, was it to make sure we didn't make contact with the Mal Noche? Or to make sure that we _did_?"

Silence descended on the room, thick as smoke, as all four detectives stared at Horatio. Finally, the lieutenant answered with obvious reluctance.

"We were anticipating that the Mal Noche would contact you," he admitted finally.

"And you thought you could use us to reel Richie back in," Carolyn concluded. Horatio's silence spoke in volumes, and Alex hissed softly in anger.

"You son of a bitch."

"We'll go," Bobby said abruptly, drawing incredulous stares from both Alex and Carolyn, and an astonished one from Mike.

"Bobby..." Alex started to protest, but Bobby ignored her.

"We'll... help you flush Richie out, on the condition that we have a chance to talk to him as soon as you have him back in custody. Then, tomorrow morning, we're leaving." He shot Mike a sharp look, and his tone left no room for argument. "Whether we have our answers, or not, we're out of here tomorrow morning."

Horatio nodded, keeping his gaze fixed firmly on Bobby, to avoid the hostile looks he was getting from Alex and Carolyn.

"Fair enough. I'll get going, and organise everything from our end. I'll ask all of you to stay here, and don't leave this suite until I come back for you this afternoon. There's a police presence downstairs in the lobby, and also in the room right next to you..."

"You've been listening to us?" Carolyn asked. "To everything we've been saying?"

"For how long?" Alex demanded to know. For the first time, Horatio began to look uncomfortable.

"It was for your own protection," he offered, but Alex shook her head in frustration, turning away from him.

"I think you'd better go," Mike suggested wryly. "She might not have her gun, but she still packs one hell of a punch."

Grimacing, Horatio conceded with a nod.

"I'll be back this afternoon to go over the plan of action with you both," he told Bobby and Mike and, with a last glance at Alex and Carolyn, he hurried from the room.

"Alex..." Bobby started to say, but she cut him off short.

"Don't, Bobby. Don't even try to justify yourself. How could you? How could you even think to put yourself and Mike at risk like this? Of all the stupid, insensitive..."

"Shut up, Alex."

For the second time in just a few minutes, silence descended on the room, and Alex stared at him with a dark look. Grunting softly, Bobby pushed himself back up to his feet, using his height to his advantage.

"You've had your say. Now it's your turn to listen to me. I don't want to do this, but this has gone beyond our personal issues now. Richie has to be caught, and if the only way to do it is through me and Mike, then that's the way it has to be. We have to trust Lieutenant Caine now to do his job."

"Think about what you're doing, Bobby!" Alex begged him. "Please..."

"We have to do it," Mike said softly.

"You have to do what?" Carolyn argued. "Let the MDPD use you as bait? When Deakins told us to do whatever Lieutenant Caine said, I don't think this is what he had in mind!"

"It won't be any different to any sting operation we've ever done in the past," Bobby said. "We'll have back-up. We'll be okay, Alex. I trust Caine. I... I have to."

Alex's shoulders slumped as she realised he wasn't going to be dissuaded.

"I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?"

"We have to do it, Alex," Bobby told her softly. "This goes beyond us, now. We can help... and... it's something that I have to do. Do you understand that, Alex? It's something _I_ have to do. If I'm ever going to rid myself of this particular demon..."

She reached out and took hold of his shoulders to silence him, and then cupped his cheek gently.

"I understand, Bobby. I'm just scared. I don't want to lose you..." Her gaze flickered to Mike. "Either of you."

"Hey, it'll be fine," Mike said with a wry smile. "We'll be fine."

"Sure, Mike," Carolyn retorted. "Problem is, trouble seems to follow you two around like a bad smell. And despite best intentions, there's an awful lot that could go wrong with this."

"It'll be fine," Bobby said, echoing Mike's words. "We do this tonight, we talk to Richie, and tomorrow we get the hell out of Dodge. Okay?"

Alex stared at him piercingly for a long moment before turning and heading for the door.

"Where are you going?" Bobby asked, baffled. "We were told not to leave..."

"I'll be back in a minute," she answered, and darted out the door.

* * *

"Lieutenant Caine!"

Horatio turned around in the lobby to see Alex Eames striding across the floor towards him, and was bemused to find himself fighting an urge to turn tail and bolt. He stood his ground, though, and waited for her to catch up.

"Thankyou for waiting," she said wryly, as though she hadn't expected him to. Horatio nodded calmly.

"What can I do for you, Detective?"

Alex bit back the urge to answer that with a custom-made snark, and instead said what she wanted... what she _needed_ to say.

"I'm not going to apologise for my attitude back there, Lieutenant. I came too close to losing Bobby not so long ago to be in any way comfortable with this, and I guarantee that our captain isn't going to be thrilled about it either, when I tell him."

"I understand," Horatio conceded, "but I promise you that I'll do everything in my power to keep both of them safe."

"And I appreciate that," Alex assured him. "I also know Mike and Bobby well enough to know that that sentiment might not be enough, but... I understand that it's going to have to be. I don't like it, though, and I promise you that if anything goes wrong and either of them is hurt, I'll be holding you personally responsible."

Again, Horatio nodded. That was fair enough.

"You and me both, Detective Eames."

"Just so long as we understand each other," Alex murmured, momentarily placated, and Horatio smiled faintly. Not for the first time, and not for the last, it occurred to him that Bobby Goren and Mike Logan were damned lucky to have the likes of Alex Eames and Carolyn Barek as their partners.

"I think we do."

* * *

_tbc..._


	13. Springing the Trap

_A/N: Chapter 13 - 'Springing the Trap'. Otherwise known as 'The Part Where Everything Goes To Hell'. Enjoy._

_

* * *

_

6.45pm

"You probably don't want to hear this right now, but there's a little voice inside me whispering that maybe this isn't such a hot idea."

Bobby looked sideways at Mike, where they sat at the bar in a small, exclusive nightclub. According to Horatio, it was a veritable den for the Mal Noche – a fact that was met with much displeasure by Alex and Carolyn.

"Do you _want_ me to shoot you?"

Mike held up his hands defensively.

"Sorry. I'll keep my mouth shut."

"Thankyou."

Silence reigned for a few minutes before Mike tried again.

"But still…"

Bobby's head came around so fast that Mike was astounded he didn't give himself whiplash.

"Don't you dare, Mike. You started all of this. You're not backing out now."

"I didn't say I wanted to back out," Mike protested. "I just… don't know if being _here_ is such a hot idea." He paused, glancing around the club, and was met with several hostile glares. "They _know_ we're cops, Bobby."

"Of course they know," Bobby grumbled. "The only reason we're still in one piece is because something's already been planned for us."

"And that makes me feel so much better," Mike muttered sourly.

"Just be ready for when Richie shows up."

Mike didn't respond to that because, in all truth, he wasn't so sure of anything all of a sudden. His clash with Richie two nights ago had left him wondering just what he'd been thinking. Too late now, though, he thought ruefully as he eyed the glass in front of him with distaste.

Whiskey… A slight shudder passed in front of him. The bartender hadn't even asked what they wanted when they came up to the bar. He'd simply poured out a double shot of whiskey for each of them and gone on with conversing with his other customers. Mike had no doubt the whiskey was compliments of Richie… if compliments was the word for it.

A glance to the side revealed that Bobby hadn't touched his drink, either. No great surprise there.

A hand on both of their shoulders caught them by surprise and they looked around, expecting to see Richie, but finding themselves confronted by Marco Vega instead.

"You don't like the whiskey we serve here, boys?" he asked, and neither one could miss the threatening undertones in his words.

"It's nothing personal," Bobby said quietly. "We don't drink whiskey anymore. Bad memories."

Marco nodded acceptingly.

"Okay. Fair enough. Jake!"

The bartender turned back towards them, one eyebrow going up at Marco's call.

"Get rid of the whiskey," Marco told him. "Scotch for my guests." He grinned his piranha grin at them both. "The best you've got, Jake."

No amount of reproach later on from anyone would compare to the self-admonishment that both Bobby and Mike would heap on themselves for such a simple, and yet devastating lapse in judgment. At that time, though, neither man thought twice about downing the glasses of Scotch that were set down in front of them.

Marco watched with subtle delight in his eyes as they finished the drinks, and then ushered them towards a dimly lit door at the back of the club.

"This way, gentlemen."

Exchanging rueful looks, Mike and Bobby abandoned their seats at the bar, and allowed themselves to be ushered through the door, into the darkness beyond.

* * *

"They've made contact with Vega," Tripp muttered as he listened intently to the conversation coming through on the headphones he was wearing. A frown crossed his features as he deduced their actions from what was being said. "They're not… Those stupid idiots…"

"What is it, Frank?" Horatio asked, not at all liking the concern in Frank's voice.

"They just drank the Scotch they were served up. I told them not to touch anything they were given! God knows what might have been slipped to them in it."

As much as he wanted to disregard it, Horatio knew Frank was right. The odds were that some narcotic had probably been slipped to them in their drinks, and if they had, indeed, ingested them, then time was now against them to get the job done before it took effect.

"All right," Horatio said finally, making a snap decision. "Call our back-up in, Frank. We're moving in."

* * *

They found themselves in a small room that was nothing but concrete from floor the ceiling. There was no furniture, no windows, and the only door was behind them.

"We're not going to see Richie, are we?" Mike asked softly, at the same time blinking hard against the blurriness that was threatening to take over his vision. Vega smiled coolly.

"Actually, Detective Logan, you will see him. Just not yet. You boys are very lucky, actually. My bosses are in a generous mood. Otherwise, you'd both be dead already for the breach of trust."

"What breach…?" Bobby started to ask, only to grunt in pain as he was driven to his knees courtesy of the butt of a gun being slammed into his back, between his shoulder blades. His slow-healing leg gave way beneath him as he went down, and he hit the concrete floor with a dull thud. Vega came to stand over him, all signs of friendliness gone from his face.

"You stupid, arrogant pig. You think we don't know you have back-up outside? We know, believe me. But like I said, we're in a generous mood today." He looked around at Mike, and smirked. The other man had collapsed to his knees, looking dazed and sick. "For now, we aren't going to do anything to either of you. For now, gentlemen. But we will be in contact with you again very soon, and I think then you'll both be more inclined to listen, and do what we say… _without_ any interference from Lieutenant Horatio Caine."

He walked over and lifted his foot, planting it squarely against Mike's shoulder and giving a brutal shove that sent Mike toppling over.

"Yes," he hissed, "I think you'll listen very carefully indeed."

"Marco," someone hissed from the door. "Time to go. Caine just arrived."

Vega nodded and, sparing the two helpless men a sneering glance, followed his friend from the room.

* * *

Bobby lay on the cold concrete, his breath coming in rapid, shallow breaths as his body fought against the drugs that he'd ingested with the Scotch. He could see Mike lying nearby, still and unresponsive, and he felt a vicious wave of guilt hit him for letting them both be caught out like this.

He should have known better than to drink anything handed to them in this place, and he damn well should have known not to trust the likes of Marco Vega.

As the dark, drug-induced haze gradually overcame him, he heard Vega's words, but there was no real comprehension in his dazed mind. Then, he was vaguely aware of movement around him, and a hand on his arm. Then, nothing but darkness.

* * *

"Horatio," Frank said as they made they're way through the club, "Vega just went out a side exit."

"Was there anyone with him, Frank?"

"Just another foot soldier. No sign of our guys."

"Then let them go," Horatio growled. "We have to find Goren and Logan, immediately."

Frank nodded, and motioned to the officers he'd brought in with them to spread out and be thorough in their search. It didn't take long for them to find the room, and the two detectives within. Heart in his throat, Horatio strode over to Bobby's side and dropped into a crouch beside him. He laid a hand on Bobby's arm, and peered down at him, searching anxiously for a sign of life.

"He's alive," Horatio said finally. Frank nodded from where he was leaning over Mike.

"So is Logan, but we're gonna need an ambulance. God only knows what they've got in their systems."

Horatio got back up to his feet, frowning darkly.

"Something isn't right. Why go to the trouble of luring them here, just to knock them out and leave them?"

"We interrupted them," Frank said. "They never got a chance to do whatever it was they planned on doing."

Scepticism filled Horatio's face, but he didn't argue. Right then, it was important to get Bobby and Mike to the nearest hospital so they could be treated. Then, and only then, could they afford to take the time to analyse the Mal Noche's confusing behaviour.

* * *

_Some time later_

Bobby awoke slowly, coming back to awareness and prying his eyes open only to be nearly blinded by fluorescent white lights. Groaning, he shut his eyes again and tried to will himself back to sleep, but it clearly wasn't going to happen. He lay in less than comfortable silence for a while before a voice broke into his solitude.

"Detective Goren? Are you awake?"

With great reluctance, Bobby forced his eyes open once more. This time, though, instead of an unwelcome flare of blinding light, he found himself staring up into the concerned face of Horatio Caine.

"Not awake," he mumbled, and Horatio smiled faintly. A sigh escaped Bobby, and he tried to shift, only to discover his wrists and ankles were wrapped securely in restraints. Confusion filled his face, and Horatio spoke quickly to allay his fears.

"It's all right, Detective. You were restrained for your own protection, Detective. We didn't know what you'd been drugged with, and the hospital staff didn't want you injuring yourself."

"The drinks…" Bobby mumbled. Horatio nodded in confirmation, and Bobby groaned. "Oh god… we're idiots…"

"Fortunately, it was just a sedative," Horatio reassured him. "You'll feel a little dazed for a while, but there shouldn't be any lasting effects."

"What about Mike?" Bobby asked.

"He's fine," Horatio reassured him. "He was drugged with the same sedatives you were, but he's awake and recovering."

Bobby shuddered violently. Damn, he was feeling sick. A nurse appeared at his side at Horatio's beckoning and loosened the restraints so that Bobby could sit up. He did so slowly, groaning softly as his head spun, and his stomach lurched unpleasantly.

"Easy," Horatio murmured, catching hold of Bobby's arm gently to steady him as he swayed visibly. "Take it easy, Detective."

"It was all wrong," Bobby mumbled, pressing one hand over his eyes. He paused, and then looked back up at Horatio slowly. "Richie wasn't there. They... never intended for him to be there. It was a trap... for us. For me, and Mike."

Horatio hesitated, and though it only lasted a split second, it was enough for Bobby to notice.

"What is it?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. Horatio let his breath out slowly.

"It was a trap," he conceded softly, "but not for you and Detective Logan."

In his fuzzy state of mind, it took a good half minute before Horatio's words finally registered. When they did, Bobby looked around at him slowly, his brown eyes boring into the lieutenant.

"What do you mean, not for us?"

It seemed to Bobby that Horatio was the one looking sick now, and when he spoke he had to make an effort to keep eye contact.

"The meeting was a diversion," he explained softly. "It appears that you and Detective Logan were not the targets."

Bobby felt an icy cold rush of panic crash down over him. He suspected that he knew where Horatio was going with this, but he prayed he was wrong. Oh God, how he prayed he was wrong.

"Just say it," Bobby whispered hoarsely.

"The meeting was a diversion," Horatio repeated, looking as though he was struggling to find the right words. "By the time we realised, it was too late."

"What do you mean, too late?" Bobby burst out, at the same time cringing from the blast of pain seared through his skull. "Will you just say it?"

Horatio shut his eyes for a long moment, steeling himself for every reaction he'd tried to anticipate.

"At the same time that Marco Vega was dealing with you and Detective Logan, a Mal Noche hit squad arrived at your hotel. They killed three of my officers, and wounded several others..."

"Alex and Carolyn," Bobby whispered, his already pale face draining of what little colour remained. Horatio nodded reluctantly.

"They were both taken by the Mal Noche, Detective. We received notice half an hour ago from Rico Peres, the man who is responsible for... mentoring your brother in the Mal Noche. They're demanding that you and Logan trade yourselves in return for the safe release of Detective Eames and Detective Barek."

"When?" Bobby asked hoarsely.

"As of half an hour ago, we had five hours to respond," Horatio answered. "They'll provide details for the exchange if we agree to their demands."

"If?" Bobby growled. "What do you mean, _if_?"

"We don't negotiate with the Mal Noche, Detective Goren," Horatio said, his voice taking on a hard edge. "I understand you wanting to do whatever you can to get your partner back safely, but handing yourselves over to the Mal Noche is _not_ the path to take."

"Tell me, Lieutenant," Bobby said in a low, dangerous voice. "What happens if, at the end of five hours, we haven't found where they're being held, and we say no to their demands? What happens to Eames and Barek?"

Horatio grimaced. Right then, he was wishing desperately that Bobby Goren was not a cop.

"They've threatened to kill them," he confirmed. Bobby nodded.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do, Lieutenant. When they contact you again, you're going to tell them we agree to their demands."

"And then what?" Horatio asked. "You and Logan go ahead and turn yourselves over to the Mal Noche? That's not going to happen, Detective. I need you to trust me, now. We _will_ get your partners back, but you must trust me. Can you do that?"

Bobby was silent for nearly a minute before speaking softly.

"Do I have a choice?"

"You have a choice," Horatio answered. "It's up to you whether you make the right one."

Again, silence reigned while the two men stared at each other. Then, finally, Bobby gave a slight nod, and Horatio visibly relaxed.

"Okay, here's what I want you to do, Detective. I want you to stay here, and leave this to us. I promise I'll keep you informed."

Then he was gone, leaving Bobby alone. He was still sitting there minutes later, staring at the floor, when movement drew his attention and he looked up to see Mike standing there, looking equally pale and equally determined.

"You know?" Mike asked softly.

"Yes," Bobby replied tonelessly. "Caine just told me."

"So what are we going to do?"

Bobby looked at him expressionlessly.

"Do?"

"Yes, do!" Mike burst out. "Don't tell me we're going to just hang around here and do nothing! I swear to God, Bobby, if you tell me that..."

"Calm down, Mike," Bobby told him quietly. "I'm not going to say that."

Mike visibly calmed at Bobby's words.

"Okay, then. So, what do we do?"

"First, we get out of here."

"Uh huh. Any suggestions how? This place is crawling with cops."

A small, grim smile curled Bobby's lips.

"We did it once before. We can do it again."

The grin on Mike's face was a match for his brother's as he quickly guessed what Bobby was referring to. If they could sneak out of a hospital, right under the noses of the nurses and their own captain, then this should prove to be easy.

"Okay," he said with renewed enthusiasm. "Let's blow this pop stand, and go get our partners back."

* * *

"You do realise they're going to kick our collective asses for this?"

Bobby grunted as he peered around the corner to make sure it was clear before venturing out.

"Forget Eames and Barek. _Deakins_ is the one we should be afraid of."

"Hey, technically we _were_ following his orders," Mike pointed out, and Bobby eyed him curiously.

"How do you figure that?"

"We were just doing what Caine asked us to do," Mike answered. Bobby couldn't suppress a smirk. That was a point. "Besides," Mike went on in a softer, more serious voice, "if we'd had any clue what those bastards were planning, we would never have left Alex and Carolyn alone."

Again, another truth.

"C'mon," Bobby muttered, and he slipped around the corner and across the hallway to a door marked with an emergency exit sign halfway along. Mike followed and, as they were slipping out through the door, Mike couldn't resist one last word.

"On the other hand, Deakins probably _will_ kill us for this stunt."

Bobby glanced back at him grimly.

"You mean, if Richie and the Mal Noche don't get to us first?"

Mike's smirk faded fast as the reality of Bobby's words hit home. Seeing that Mike's eyes were finally wide open to the reality ahead of them, Bobby turned and led the way quickly and silently out of the hospital.

* * *

_tbc..._


	14. Into The Fire

In the end, it was a toss up for Alex which drove her crazier – the silence or the blackness. From the moment she woke up, there had been absolute and utter silence. She was blindfolded, bound to a chair, and gagged. She couldn't make a sound, and there were no other noises around her to suggest anyone else was nearby.

She had vague memories of what had happened. She recalled waiting anxiously with Carolyn in the hotel room, feeling frustrated and angry at being left behind. They were both of the same opinion that Deakins was going to kill them when he found out what Bobby and Mike had agreed to do. As Carolyn had pointed out earlier, when Deakins ordered them to do what Horatio Caine told them, he had probably not intended for them to offer themselves up as bait.

And then, as things were wont to do, everything went south very quickly.

They had been waiting together when the gunmen burst into their suite. Neither she nor Carolyn had heard a sound from outside. Not a shout, nor a gunshot, and they'd been caught completely off guard as a result. The men had burst in – five of them altogether – and grabbed them. Alex remembered something damp being jammed over her mouth and nose, and she'd had just enough time to register the smell of chloroform, before darkness took her.

And now, here she was. Bound and gagged, and waiting for... Actually, she didn't know what she was waiting for, or who. None of this was making any sense, not with her mind still fuzzy from the effects of the chloroform. She figured it had to have something to do with Richie Goren, but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what. It didn't make any sense at all, not right then.

The sudden, unexpected sound of someone moving close by caught her by surprise, and she found herself tensing against the ropes that bound her. She assumed it was an enemy, and she braced herself for the unimaginable when a hand descended briefly onto her shoulder, and then fingered her hair with a gross intimacy.

A moment later, a soft, throaty chuckle sounded in her ear.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. You and your friend will be perfectly safe, as long as your boyfriends do as they're told. As long as they keep playing by our rules, you two ladies will walk away from this." The unfamiliar voice hesitated, and then added with grim humour, "Of course, can't say the same for _them_, but that's just the chance you take... isn't it, sweetheart?"

She felt his lips brush lightly over her cheek, and she wanted to spit in his face in response, but the gag made for no allowances. She was helpless, and her captor knew it.

"I bet you'd kick my ass, given half a chance, wouldn't you?" he rasped. "Tough ass cop like you... Yeah, you'd kick my ass, all right. Well, forgive me for not wanting to give you that chance. You just sit tight there, beautiful, and behave yourself, and you'll be free again before you know it."

And then he was gone again.

Alex let her breath out in a hissing rush through her nose as she heard a door being slammed shut and locked only a short distance away. God, she hoped it didn't mean that Bobby and Mike were actually cooperating with the scum that had her and Carolyn. If they were... if they even contemplated handing themselves over as a trade, then _she'd_ kill them herself.

Either way, she thought bitterly, someone was going to bleed for this. Someone was going to bleed badly.

* * *

Horatio had returned to the Crime Lab, and was going over evidence from the hotel with Calleigh and Ryan when Tripp arrived, with a mixture of anger and panic on his craggy features.

"Frank?" Horatio asked, feeling his stomach muscles tighten unpleasantly in reaction to the vibes that Tripp was giving out. "What's wrong?"

"They're gone," Tripp answered. "Goren and Logan! They're gone from the hospital!"

"They were snatched from inside the hospital?" Ryan asked incredulously, but Tripp snorted loudly.

"Snatched my ass! Pair of jokers got up and walked out of there together! We've got them on the goddamn security cameras! They left the hospital together a good twenty to thirty minutes ago, and now we have no idea where they are."

"They're going to attempt to make contact with the Mal Noche," Ryan guessed. "They want their partners back."

"That is correct, Mr Wolfe," Horatio confirmed, the suddenly-strained tone of his voice belying the calm expression on his face.

"But if they go ahead and hand themselves over," Calleigh said anxiously, "all they'll be doing is signing all their death warrants. The Mal Noche isn't going to just let their partners go free."

"I expect they already know that," Horatio said as he began to walk back towards the main exit. "They wouldn't go into a situation like this without having some sort of a plan."

"If we don't find them before they try to make this exchange, it won't matter what sort of plan they have. They'll be good as dead," Tripp said. "All four of them. What do we do, Horatio?"

"We find them, that's what." He paused, reluctantly withdrawing his cell phone from his pocket. "And, I think it's time to call their captain, and fill him in on what's happening."

* * *

By the time his home phone rang just before three-thirty in the morning, Jimmy Deakins was on the verge booking himself onto the next available flight to Miami. His instructions to his detectives about calling him every evening had been non-negotiable, and so when the time for that call came and went and he hadn't heard from them, his blood pressure steadily began to rise. It continued to rise as the hours ticked by, and he still hadn't heard anything.

He'd tried several times to reach their individual cell phones, only to get an irritating female voice telling him each of the phones was switched off. He tried the hotel, only to be told the detectives were out, and would he like to leave a message for them. He declined, knowing that whatever message he left would probably only result in the concierge hanging up on him.

And, when his phone rang in the early hours of the morning, waking his wife up (he'd been lying in bed awake for hours, unable to sleep), he was just about ready to blow a gasket, well and truly.

"Deakins," he growled, anticipating either Bobby or Mike with some lame-ass apology.

"_Captain Deakins? This is Lieutenant Horatio Caine, from the Miami Dade Crime Lab_."

Deakins felt his stomach drop. To be called by Lieutenant Caine, at this hour, could only be a bad thing.

"What's happened to my detectives?" he asked in a strained voice. There was a split second of silence on the other end, before Horatio continued on.

"_Captain Deakins, I'm afraid we've run into some serious difficulties. Your detectives are in a great deal of danger._"

That _wasn't_ what Deakins cared to hear at three-thirty in the morning.

"What's happened, Lieutenant? Please don't string me along. I do not have the patience for it."

"_Detective Goren and Detective Logan were cooperating with us to bring in Richard Goren and another known member of the Mal Noche. It turned out to be set-up, and while we were distracted with trying to assist Goren and Logan, Detectives Eames and Barek were abducted from their hotel._"

Deakins thought for a long moment that he was going to be sick. Before he could react verbally, though, Horatio went on.

"_Despite my instructions, Goren and Logan left the hospital where we left them, and disappeared on us_..."

"I could have warned you about leaving those two together, and unattended, Lieutenant," Deakins said ruefully.

"_So I guessed_," Horatio conceded. "_We believe that they will attempt to make contact with the Mal Noche, and negotiate for the release of their partners_."

"Negotiate?" Deakins asked, not liking what he was hearing at all. Horatio answered with audible reluctance.

"_We believe they plan to exchange themselves for their partners_," Horatio answered. Deakins shut his eyes as he struggled to control his anger. He was going to kill Mike and Bobby...

"I'll be on the first flight to Miami that I can get," he said firmly, and ended the call before Horatio had the opportunity to reply.

"Jimmy?" Angie asked, watching as he got up and began to get dressed. "What's happened?"

"Bobby and Mike are causing trouble again," Deakins answered grimly. "I'm sorry, honey. I have to get to Miami."

"Causing trouble?" Angie asked. "Or _in_ trouble?"

Deakins looked grim as he grabbed his gun and badge from the sideboard.

"Both."

* * *

"You know, we don't have a clue where to look for these people," Mike said softly, though not disparagingly, as they entered a small bar and found a corner table that was right out of the way. Bobby nodded in agreement.

"Maybe. Personally, I'm kind of relying on them to find us. Not the other way around."

"I'll tell you one thing, though," Mike went on heatedly, "if either Alex or Carolyn have been hurt, in any way, I'll fucking kill them myself."

Though Bobby said nothing to validate Mike's vehement words, the expression on his face spoke in volumes. He felt the same way as Mike, but what surprised him considerably was the deep-set rage he felt at the thought of Carolyn being hurt in any way. As much as he wanted his partner back safely, he found his focus turning to Carolyn more and more.

"You thinking about Carolyn?" Mike asked softly. Bobby glanced up at him, and then nodded.

"Yes," he answered simply. A crooked smile touched Mike's lips.

"She's gotten to you, hasn't she?"

"I like her," Bobby admitted, his cheeks reddening noticeably. "I... I like her a lot. She's smart... sweet... beautiful..."

Mike chuckled softly.

"Yeah, she got to you. Don't get me wrong, Bobby. I think it's great. Just, take a word of advice from your big brother?"

Bobby's eyebrows went up in bemusement.

"And what's that?"

"Don't try to screw with her head, baby brother. Because I guarantee you, she'll screw you right back, and I don't mean that in a good way."

Bobby had to laugh. He knew what Mike meant, even though it hadn't come out quite right.

"I got it, Mike. I promise you, I'll try not to do that."

Mike grunted.

"Good. Because believe me, she knows how to do that whole mindfuck thing just as well as you do."

Bobby smirked, but before he had a chance to respond, a shadow fell across them. They looked up to find Marco Vega standing there, watching them both with a decidedly unfriendly stare.

"Gentlemen," Vega said tonelessly in greeting. "I trust you're both ready to cooperate fully with us, now?"

"We're here, aren't we?" Mike snapped. "Do you see any MDPD around?"

"No, you gave them the slip quite impressively, if I do say so myself," Vega agreed. "Very well, gentlemen. If you'll come with me?"

"No," Bobby growled. Vega raised an eyebrow at him.

"No?"

"No," Bobby repeated. "Before we go anywhere at all with you, you're going to call whatever scum has our partners, and tell them to let them go."

"Detective Goren, this is not negotiable..."

"Yes, it is," Bobby said, his voice taking on a low, threatening rumble that gave even Mike pause. "This is how it's going to happen, and if you'll give us this much, then we all get what we want. And what _we_ want is for Detective Eames and Detective Barek to be released, unharmed, back into MDPD custody. You play this part by our rules, and _then_ we'll go with you. But we aren't going anywhere until we know that our partners are safe."

Vega regarded Bobby thoughtfully before nodding.

"Very well. We shall concede to your request, given your willingness to cooperate with us now. I shall make the call immediately."

Bobby and Mike watched in silence as Vega made a call, and spoke in rapid Spanish to the faceless individual on the other end of the line. When he finally hung up, he looked back to Bobby, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"And now we wait."

"How will we know?" Mike asked suspiciously.

Vega tossed his cell phone onto the table between them.

"We wait for ten minutes. Then, you call Lieutenant Caine, and confirm that your partners are safe. But don't try to stall to enable them to trace the call, Detectives. You call, get confirmation, and hang up. Understand?"

Bobby nodded.

"We understand."

* * *

Alex thought the worst when someone stomped into the room where she was being held, yanked her roughly to her feet and guided her out of the room. They never removed her blindfold, and she dared not do anything to try and see what was happening, or where she was being taken.

Not a word was spoken by anyone as she was taken outside, into the hot Miami night, and then pushed into a van. She sat, heart in her throat, as the vehicle carried her to an unknown destination where she fully anticipated a bullet in the head.

It didn't happen. After what seemed an age, the vehicle came to a halt. She heard the door sliding open, and a moment later she was pushed out roughly. She stumbled, and fell, landing on hard asphalt, and she felt the rough surface graze her skin.

She heard a pained grunt as someone else hit the ground next to her. Then, the vehicle door slammed shut behind them and the vehicle took off with a loud roar of the engine.

Alex was still struggling to get the blindfold off when she heard shouts, and a pair of hands suddenly alighted on her and the blindfold and gag were both removed. She gasped, and found herself staring up into the welcome face of Horatio Caine.

"Detective Eames," he said as he helped her to sit up, and untied her wrists. "Are you hurt?"

Alex hesitated in answering, instead looking around anxiously. Relief flooded her at the sight of Carolyn being seen to by another officer just a few feet away.

"Are you hurt?" Horatio repeated. Alex drew in a long, if somewhat shaky breath.

"No," she answered softly. "We're not hurt. Just... bruised." She looked up at him suddenly. "Please tell us that Bobby and Mike are safe."

Horatio winced, and her heart sank.

"You don't know where they are, do you?"

Deciding that at that point, honesty was definitely the best policy, Horatio told her the truth.

"We left them at the hospital while we tried to locate you ladies..."

"_That_ was a big mistake," Carolyn put in ruefully. Horatio nodded.

"So I gathered. They walked out of there together over an hour ago, and disappeared. We have to assume they're now being held by the Mal Noche."

Horatio's phone suddenly rang. Frowning, he checked the caller ID and, not recognising the number, answered the call with some reservation.

"Caine."

"_Are they safe_?"

Horatio started a little in surprise.

"Detective Goren?"

"Give me that," Alex growled, and snatched the phone out of Horatio's hand before he could argue. "Bobby?"

"_Alex..._?"

She could hear the tension in his voice, so palpable that it turned her stomach. He was not just afraid, she realised numbly. He was terrified.

"I'm here. Where are you?"

"_Are you safe? Please, tell me you and Carolyn are both safe._"

"Yes, we're safe. We were just dumped off at the Crime Scene Lab."

"_And you're not hurt? Neither of you are hurt?_"

"No! We're not hurt! Goddamn you, Bobby, tell me where you are!"

The line went dead. Alex stared at the phone in numb shock for several seconds before handing it back to Horatio.

"He hung up..."

Horatio twisted around and tossed the phone to a man standing close by.

"Eric, get this to trace. I want to know where that call came from, immediately!"

The young man took off at a run. Horatio watched him go, and then turned back to face Alex and Carolyn.

"Don't worry. We'll find them, I promise you."

Alex nodded in response for both Carolyn and herself, but nothing could mask the fear in their eyes at what was in store for their partners.

* * *

"Satisfied?" Vega asked as he snatched the phone back and ended the call. Bobby and Mike looked at each other grimly before Bobby nodded.

"Yes," he said simply.

"Good," Vega murmured. He motioned for them to get up. "Now, let's go see Richie."

* * *

_tbc..._


	15. Final Confrontation

With the matter of their partners' safety settled, Bobby and Mike were hustled quickly out of the bar and into a waiting vehicle. They were blindfolded, and their hands bound in front of them. Then, they were on the move.

Bobby and Mike both tried to follow the direction they travelled in, but in the end there were simply too many turns to keep track of. They travelled for over half an hour, turning left, then right, then left. There seemed to be no pattern to the turns that Bobby was able to decipher and, by the time the vehicle came to a stop, neither man had the slightest idea where they were.

They were bundled out of the car and into a room, pushed into chairs and quickly tied up. They heard the door slam shut, and then there was silence.

"Bobby...?" Mike asked tentatively.

"I'm here," Bobby whispered.

"What the fuck is going on?" Mike wondered, but Bobby had no answer to give him. All he knew was that he was very, very afraid.

They sat there, apparently alone, for at least ten minutes. Bobby estimated that it was probably longer. Then, just as the tension was starting to become unbearable, the blindfolds were finally yanked roughly from their faces – first Mike's, and then Bobby's.

The first thing Bobby became aware of was the bland décor and peeling paint of the third rate motel room in which they were sitting. The second was Richie, standing over him and grinning cruelly with eager anticipation. As soon as Bobby's attention was on him, Richie swung his fist around to strike Bobby hard in the face. The force of the blow rocked Bobby's head back hard and very nearly sent him over backwards in the chair.

"Hey!" Mike burst out, straining helplessly against his bindings. "Leave him alone, you son of a bitch!"

Richie looked around and favoured Mike with a scathing look.

"Isn't that sweet? Big brother Mikey wants to protect his little brother."

Bobby grimaced as he spat out blood.

"You did know, then."

Richie laughed as he grabbed a towel and rubbed the blood from his knuckles.

"Yeah, I know," he said with a derisive snort. "I've known all along about this other piece of shit. As soon as he said his name in the bar, I knew." He paused, looking from one to the other with a sneer. "Two brothers, utterly loyal to each other. You make me want to vomit."

"Hey, just because you suck as a brother, don't blame us," Mike snapped. An instant later, it was his turn to suffer a fist to the head that left him seeing stars.

"You don't know the first thing about being a brother," Richie snarled. "Especially to the runt over there. Maybe I ought to clue you in, huh, Mikey?"

Mike glared up at Richie.

"The name is _Mike_. Detective Logan to you, shithead. No one gets to call me Mikey except Bobby."

Rather than looking annoyed, Richie appeared amused. He looked back over at Bobby.

"This one's a real tough guy, Bobby. You could learn a thing or two from him... if I was going to let you both live. Which, for the record, I'm not." Turning, Richie walked over and sat down with a thud, eyeing the two of them with mild interest. "Look at this," he mused with a grin. "Just like old times, huh, Bobby? See, Mikey... sorry, _Mike_... Bobby and I played a lot of games like this when we were kids."

"Games my ass," Mike snapped, at the same time noting the shade of grey that Bobby had gone. Richie chuckled.

"Yeah, well, they were games to me. Maybe not so much to Bobby. Like... the time that I watched that documentary with Dad about torture techniques, and I decided to test a few of them out on Bobby here. Damn, Dad had a hell of a time convincing the doctor at the hospital that Bobby did all of that to himself. Even after it was all done, I think he still didn't want to believe that Bobby burned his own back."

"You sick fuck," Mike spat. Richie nodded, looking almost pleasant.

"Yeah, maybe I am. But I'm also the one with the power here, aren't I? I've got the power, and you two fucks can't do a fucking thing about it. But, enough of that for the moment. I might be a bastard, but I try to be a relatively honest bastard. You've got questions to ask? So go ahead, ask."

Again, Mike and Bobby exchanged glances. This wasn't exactly happening the way they'd planned it out. Right then, though, it seemed like the best way to buy time was to do as Richie said, and ask their questions. Because if there was one thing that was abundantly clear to them both – even Mike, who had no grounding in psychology – it was that Richie was purely and simply out of his mind.

"We need to know about our dad, and Mike's mom," Bobby said tersely. A mildly puzzled look flashed across Richie's face.

"What do you mean, our dad, and his mom...?"

"We want to know how our old man got together with my mom." Mike growled. "It's not that hard to understand, even for a moron like you."

For nearly a minute, Richie didn't respond. For nearly a minute he stared at them both inscrutably, as though they'd suddenly started speaking in Chinese. Then, without warning, Richie began to laugh. It wasn't just an amused chuckle; it was a side-splitting roar of laughter that left Richie almost incapable of replying.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Mike said to Bobby in a low voice that was heavily laden with sarcasm, "but we weren't actually trying to be funny, were we?"

Bobby shook his head and, not for the first time, wondered about his oldest brother's sanity. Richie, for his part, was trying desperately to speak in between hysterical, hiccupping laughs.

"Oh, this... this is beautiful... Just beautiful! You don't know... Neither of you idiots know... Not a fucking clue!"

"We don't know what?" Bobby asked, rapidly losing his patience with Richie. "Damn it, Richie, will you quit acting like a fucking hyena, and just tell us what's so damned funny?"

"Oh, no, I gotta drag this out," Richie laughed. "An opportunity like this to fuck with my little brother's head only comes along once in a lifetime. I'm gonna make this last as long as fucking possible."

Mike snorted derisively.

"You're a pain in the fucking ass, Richie. I can't believe we're actually related."

Richie launched himself out of his seat, and into Mike's face so fast that Mike nearly toppled over backwards in the chair, in an instinctive attempt to try and put some space between them.

"We're not, you fucking pig."

Mike froze, looking first at Richie, and then at Bobby.

"What do you mean... We're not?"

"I mean, I am _not_ your brother, shithead. Thank God for small favours."

For a long moment, Mike did a reasonably good impression of a guppy, with his mouth opening and closing several times, but with no sound coming out. He finally put it down to the blow to the head that he'd taken, that Richie's words simply weren't making any sense to him.

"You've got a screw loose, Richie," Bobby said quietly. "There was a DNA comparison done on mine and Mike's DNA. It proved conclusively that we're brothers."

Richie snickered as he sauntered back over to Bobby, and patted him condescendingly on the cheek.

"I never said he wasn't _your_ brother, Bobby. I just said, he isn't _mine_."

By then, Bobby was as confused as Mike.

"It's a genetic impossibility, Richie. If Mike is my brother..."

"For a detective, you're pretty fucking dumb, runt," Richie said. "Bobby, think about it carefully. Didn't you ever wonder why I was Dad's golden boy, and he treated you like dirt? Didn't you ever wonder why nothing you ever did was good enough? Hell, didn't you ever wonder why he acted like he only had one son?"

By that time, Bobby's mouth was almost too dry to get a word out in response. He really didn't want to know where Richie was going with this.

"The... I mean... Mom's schizophrenia... Dad thought..."

"He thought what? He thought that you might develop it, too? I had the same chance of developing it that you did, runt, but he never treated me badly because of it. So what other explanation can you pull out of your ass? Huh, Bobby boy?"

Bobby fell silent, confused and suddenly more than a little frightened. All of a sudden, more than ever, he didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to hear any of it. Richie leaned in close and suddenly it was as though they were the only two in the room.

"Don't you get it, Bobby? Even with all the facts right in front of you, don't you understand? Mike over there isn't the illegitimate one. _You_ are. It wasn't our dad that fucked around with his mom. It was _his_ dad that fucked around with _our_ mom. _That's_ why Dad hated the sight of you, you fucking runt. You weren't his kid, and he goddamn knew it."

Bobby sat frozen, wave after wave of icy cold panic washing over him as he struggled to deal with Richie's revelation. Still laughing softly, Richie turned away and unzipped a sports bag that had been sitting unobtrusively near by.

"Bobby," Mike whispered. He had heard Richie's words but, stunned as he was by it, it hadn't left him almost paralysed as it had done with Bobby. "Bobby, snap out of it! C'mon, man..."

Richie turned around, and Mike blanched at the sight of the butcher knife in his hand.

"This is exactly how I plan on remembering you, Bobby," Richie said with a cruel sneer as he stared down at his little brother. "Looking just like a lost little puppy." He lifted up the knife. "And you ought to know better than anyone what I did with puppies and kittens."

Bobby came out of his daze, and his eyes locked onto the knife, widening a little as he realised what was about to happen. Before he had a chance to do anything, though, there was an explosion of movement on his left, and Mike launched himself out of his chair, the ropes that had previously bound him falling to the floor in a heap. Mike tackled Richie, and the knife flew from Richie's hand and skittered across the floor, coming to rest just behind the chair where Bobby was still tied up.

Bobby looked on, helpless to act as Mike and Richie struggled. To begin with, it seemed that Richie had the upper hand, and punch after punch was delivered to Mike's face and gut. A second blow to the head sent Mike collapsing to the floor, blood trickling from his mouth onto the dirty white carpet.

Just as it seemed that Richie was gearing up to deliver a knock-out blow, though, Mike kicked upwards, catching Richie right in the groin and sending him flying backwards. Richie collapsed with a pained groan, and Mike was on him an instant later in a flurry of fists and feet.

Richie had the benefit of size and strength, but Mike was operating on pure rage, and it wasn't long before he had the older man pinned to the floor.

"You son of a bitch," Mike hissed. One eye was closed over, and where he wasn't bleeding, it seemed there was multiple bruising coming up already. "You goddamn son of a bitch..."

Richie sneered up at him.

"Not bad, Mikey. You're a better fighter than Bobby ever was. Still not too bright, though."

Mike's confusion lasted as long as it took for Richie to twist one hand free and, with a snap of his wrist, eject a long blade that he'd had strapped to his arm, carefully concealed by his sleeve. He drove the knife deep into Mike's gut, and Mike went rigid from the pain and shock.

"Too bad, buddy boy," Richie hissed into his ear as Mike's body went limp on top of his.

Where he sat, still tied to the chair, Bobby watched in numb horror as Mike was stabbed. Then, as Richie struggled to push the dead weight off him, Bobby looked around frantically for something that could help him. He spotted the butcher knife a short distance away from where he sat, and he estimated that if he could tip himself over, then the brittle chair that he was tied to would collapse, freeing him from his bindings and allowing him to grab the knife. But, he had to do it now...

Without pausing to think twice, Bobby threw his weight to the side, easily tipping himself over in the chair. A howl of pain tore from his lips as he felt his right arm break from landing on it badly. Then, as the haze of pain cleared, he scrambled to free himself from the now loosened ropes.

With a snarl of anger, Richie pushed Mike's body off his with a burst of strength, scrambled around and launched himself at Bobby, intent on ending it once and for all.

Bobby grabbed the knife and twisted himself around just as Richie landed on him. He screamed in pain as Richie drove his switchblade into Bobby's side. Richie was the worse off, though. Bobby had brought the knife around with him as he twisted his body, holding it blade upwards. Richie's momentum impaled him fully, the blade sinking into his body right up to the handle.

There the two brothers lay, staring at each other in a last moment of stillness. Richie's mouth opened, as though he intended on saying something, but all that came out was a stream of blood. As Bobby watched, the light went out of Richie's eyes, and death claimed him.

Choking back a sob, Bobby pushed Richie's now lifeless body off his own, and crawled across the floor to where Mike lay. He anticipated finding Mike dead, or close to death, so the joy he felt upon seeing that Mike's eyes were open and he was moderately alert was indescribable.

"Mike?" he whispered, at the same time covering his brother's wound with his hand to apply pressure and ease the bleeding. "Is... Is it bad?"

"Compared to having a building drop on us?" Mike rasped. "Fuck, no. Your idiot brother has shit aim. I... I don't think he hit anything vital."

Bobby glanced over to where Richie lay.

"_Had_," he corrected. "He _had_ shit aim."

Mike looked past him to Richie, and then sighed softly.

"Not gonna say I'm sorry."

Bobby didn't respond to that. Right then, he couldn't. Mike seemed to understand, and changed the subject.

"Can you reach the phone, Bobby?"

"I don't know. I'll try."

"You'd better, baby brother. Because if Richie's Mal Noche buddies get here before Lieutenant Caine, we're both fucked."

Grimacing, Bobby abandoned Mike and crawled over to the side table. With some effort, he caught the phone cord and pulled it off the table. Then, hoping to God that the phone wasn't bugged, he dialled a memorised number.

* * *

"I hate this," Carolyn said bitterly as she and Alex waited in the hospital for news. "I'm telling you, the Starbucks thing had nothing on this."

Calleigh, who had been instructed by Horatio to stay with the detectives, looked at them in curiosity.

"You all keep talking about Starbucks. Did something happen?"

"It's a long story," Alex said wryly. "Basically comes down to Bobby and Mike acting like four year olds while they were still in the hospital." She shut her eyes, and lifted one hand to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "God, I'm going to kill them both."

"We'll find them," Calleigh tried to assure her. "We will."

"But will it be in time?" Alex asked softly. Calleigh didn't answer that. She couldn't answer it positively, not with any certainty. Carolyn regarded her tiredly.

"How long has it been since that phone call from Bobby?"

Calleigh didn't even need to look at her watch to be able to answer that.

"One hour and forty-five minutes."

"That's more than long enough," Carolyn muttered. "Damn them, why did they have to be heroes?"

"Because they care about you," Calleigh said simply.

"If they cared, they wouldn't have offered themselves up like this!" Alex snapped and, in a fit of temper, slid off the gurney she'd been sitting on, and stormed out of the ER.

* * *

Alex strode out of the ER, around the corner, and was barely able to avoid slamming into Horatio Caine.

"Detective Eames," Horatio said, looking at her in quiet concern. "Are you all right?"

She stared at him, incredulous that he could ask what seemed to her to be such a moronic question.

"My idiot partner and his idiot brother gave themselves up to a vicious organised crime syndicate to save me and Carolyn. They've been missing long enough to have been sliced and diced half a dozen times over, and you're standing there asking me if I'm all right?"

The tears were flowing almost before she realised it as the shock wore off and reality began to sink in.

"They're dead... aren't they?" she choked out as she finally broke down. Horatio stepped forward, slipping his arms around her in a comforting gesture. Instinct told him that she wasn't normally the kind to break down and show emotion like this, but he knew as well as anyone that the human psyche could only take so much before it reached breaking point. Alex Eames seemed to have finally reached that point.

He was still trying to decide what to say that would neither raise false hopes nor completely destroy her hopes, when his cell phone rang. Smiling reassuringly at her, Horatio pulled out his cell phone and answered the call.

"Caine."

Silence. Horatio frowned, wondering if it was a prank call.

"This is Lieutenant Horatio Caine," he said in a louder, firmer voice. For a couple of seconds, there was still just silence. Then, suddenly, he caught the sound of rasping breathing – barely audible, but there all the same. Before he had a chance to speak again, a voice came over the phone.

"_Lieutenant_..."

Even as weak as it sounded, Horatio couldn't mistake that voice, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Detective Goren?"

Alex's eyes went wide but, unlike earlier, she made no attempt to snatch the phone off him.

"Detective Goren, where are you?" Horatio asked.

"_M... Motel..._"

"Which motel?" Horatio asked. "Detective, which motel is it?"

There was brief silence, followed by a muffled crash. Then, he heard Bobby's voice again.

"_P... Palms Motel_... _We're hurt... R... Richie's d... dead..."_

"Okay, Detective. Here's what I want you to do. I want you to stay on the line, and we will be there very, very soon." He held the phone out to Alex. "Keep him talking, Detective Eames. Don't let him stop."

As Alex took the phone in trembling fingers, Horatio ducked around into the ER.

"Calleigh, let's move! We have a location. Call Tripp, and tell him to meet us at the Palms Motel on Gale Street." He paused, his gaze flickering to Carolyn before adding quietly, "Tell him, officers down."

* * *

Carolyn emerged from the ER after Horatio and Calleigh had gone, to find Alex still standing in the corridor, talking anxiously into the phone.

"Talk to me, Bobby. Tell me, where are you hurt?"

"_Side... Stabbed... in the side..._"

Alex sucked in a sharp breath.

"Okay, Bobby. You've got to stay with us now. Lieutenant Caine is on his way. Just hang on for a little longer, okay?"

"What about Mike?" Carolyn asked hoarsely. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Alex said softly, fear in her eyes. "I really don't know."

* * *

When the door of the motel room swung open, Bobby's first feeling was one of utter relief. That feeling didn't last as Rico Peres came in. He stood frozen in the doorway, taking in the scene before him before he snarled in anger and strode over to where Bobby lay slumped on the floor, the handpiece of the phone clutched loosely in his hand.

"You son of a bitch," he snarled, yanking the phone from Bobby's hand and ripping the entire device away from its connection in the wall. Pulling out his gun, he pressed the barrel to Bobby's head. "You killed him, didn't you? You killed Richie."

It wasn't a question, and Bobby made no effort to deny it.

"He k... killed himself," Bobby whispered. Well, he thought numbly, technically it was true.

"I put a lot of time and effort into Richie," Rico hissed. "He was a big investment for me."

"Bad investment," Bobby mumbled. He was losing strength as rapidly as he was losing blood. He wasn't going to be able to stay conscious for much longer.

"Be that as it may," Rico said, "he was still _my_ investment, and you've ruined that." He released the safety catch on the gun. "Lights out, Detective Goren."

* * *

Horatio arrived at the motel just ahead of Tripp.

"What's the situation, Horatio?" Tripp asked tensely.

"Rico Peres is in there," Horatio told him. "We sighted him going into the room just as we got here. As near as we know, Richard Goren is dead, but Detective Goren and Detective Logan are both still alive. I'd like to make sure they stay that way, Frank."

Tripp nodded.

"Okay. Let's move in."

* * *

Bobby shut his eyes, anticipating the shot to the head that would take his life from him. Seconds passed, and nothing happened. Then, Bobby risked opening his eyes a little, and was confused to discover Rico had disappeared from crouching over the top of him. For a few seconds, he stared up at the cracked ceiling of the motel room. Then, a familiar face appeared over his.

"Detective Goren?" Horatio asked anxiously. "Are you with me?"

Bobby coughed painfully, aware of the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

"Didn't... Didn't hear you c... come in..."

Horatio smiled faintly, and then glanced over to where a paramedic had come in and was seeing to Mike. He caught the man's eye, and the paramedic nodded in answer to the unspoken question.

"He's going to be okay, Lieutenant. But we have to get them to the hospital now."

Horatio nodded in visible relief, and moved out of the way as a second team of paramedics entered, and moved to tend to Bobby.

"Okay. Let's get them out of here."

* * *

_tbc..._


	16. Aftermath

Deakins arrived in Miami just as the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He passed through airport security and was on his way out when he was stopped by a young man who, in his opinion, looked barely old enough to have a license, let alone the badge he was carrying.

"Excuse me, are you Captain Deakins?"

Deakins answered with a quick nod, eyeing the young man critically.

"Yes, I am. And you are...?"

"I'm Ryan Wolfe. I'm with the Miami Dade Crime Lab. Lieutenant Caine sent me to meet you, and to let you know that all four of your detectives are safe."

Those words were literally music to Deakins' ears, and he couldn't hope to hide the relief he felt at the news.

"So Eames and Barek were rescued, and you found Goren and Logan?" he asked. Ryan hesitated, and Deakins felt his stomach tighten once more. "What happened, Wolfe?"

"Actually," Ryan said tentatively, "the Mal Noche released Detectives Eames and Barek unharmed."

"Unharmed?" Deakins echoed incredulously, slowing to a halt and fixing a hard look on the younger man. "Which would mean that Goren and Logan..."

"They're okay, Captain Deakins. They're at the hospital, and are being treated now."

Deakins' stomach twisted almost painfully.

"They did it, didn't they? They exchanged themselves for Eames and Barek."

"I'm really not the person to be telling you all that," Ryan said uneasily. "You should talk to Horatio about it. He can tell you all the details."

Deakins drew in a sharp breath as they started walking again.

"They did. Of all the stupid, impulsive... How badly were they hurt?"

Again, Ryan hesitated. Yes, he knew that Bobby and Mike were going to be okay, but he still didn't like the idea of telling Deakins that they'd both been stabbed.

"It's not life-threatening," he said firmly. "They're going to be fine. C'mon, Captain. I'll take you to them."

For a split second, Ryan thought Deakins was going to argue with him. But then, he seemed to think twice about it and, with a reluctant nod, followed Ryan out of the airport.

* * *

They got to the hospital, and Ryan led him through to a private waiting room where Horatio was waiting with Alex and Carolyn.

"Captain," Alex said guiltily as she and Carolyn got up to face him. "I'm sorry, sir. We messed this up big time."

Deakins didn't hesitate. He pulled first Alex, and then Carolyn, to him in a fierce hug.

"You're both okay. That's what's important." He looked at each of them anxiously. "You _are_ okay, aren't you?"

"We're fine," Carolyn reassured him. "They didn't hurt us."

Deakins nodded, and then a frown crossed his features.

"Now, where are your partners?"

"They're both in the ER, Captain," Carolyn answered, wincing a little at his expression. "They were both stabbed by Richie... and Bobby has a broken arm. They both lost a fair bit of blood, but other than that, it's not too serious. They're going to be okay."

"Good," Deakins growled. "Because when I see them, I may just kill them myself!"

"Captain, go easy on them, please," Alex begged him. "They're both pretty badly shaken. The last thing they need is to have anyone ripping into them."

Deakins frowned again, but conceded with a reluctant nod. He then turned to Horatio, finally acknowledging the lieutenant.

"Lieutenant Caine, I presume?"

"I'm Horatio Caine," Horatio answered.

"Please, tell me that you have Richard Goren in custody?"

"Richard Goren is dead," Captain Deakins," Horatio answered quietly. Alex laid a hand gently on Deakins' arm.

"Captain, Bobby killed him."

Deakins felt his stomach roll unpleasantly, and he sank slowly into the closest chair as he struggled to digest the news.

"Bobby killed his brother...?" he asked finally. Horatio sat down beside him, and spoke quietly.

"It was an act of self-defence, Captain Deakins. Richie was going to kill both him and Detective Logan. Detective Goren had no choice."

The captain regarded Horatio grimly.

"That's not going to make it any easier for him to deal with, Lieutenant."

"I know," Horatio conceded. "I'm sorry."

"When can I see my detectives, Lieutenant Caine?"

Horatio stood up.

"Now, Captain Deakins."

* * *

Mike had long since given up on trying to talk to Bobby. The other man had shut down completely and wasn't communicating with anyone at all. Not that Mike blamed him, of course. He didn't, not at all. But it still concerned him deeply that Bobby couldn't seem to bring himself to talk even to him.

He glanced over to where Bobby lay on the next bed over, staring up at the ceiling in silence, and he wondered just what was occupying Bobby's mind – Richie's death, or the news Richie had imparted before everything descended into the tenth level of Hell. For his part, he found himself replaying Richie's words in his mind over and over again, dazed by the revelation.

"_It wasn't our dad that fucked around with his mom. It was his dad that fucked around with our mom. That's why Dad hated the sight of you, you fucking runt. You weren't his kid, and he goddamn knew it._"

_I'm still a Logan_, Mike thought with a mixture of guilt and relief. And, strangely, he found himself more willing to accept that his father had been the one to have an affair, rather than his mother. Unfortunately, now it was Bobby who was left hanging in limbo, and Mike didn't know where to begin to try and make it better for him.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," he tried again. "If I'd had any idea..."

"You still would have pushed ahead," Bobby said abruptly. Mike pushed himself up a little, startled to actually get a response.

"Yeah, I probably would have," he agreed.

"Then what are you apologising for?"

"I... Well..."

Bobby shifted a little, so that he could look at his brother a little better.

"You're not sorry, and you don't have any reason to be. Don't apologise for the truth... no matter how painful it is."

Mike grimaced.

"You're not making me feel any better."

Bobby shifted again, this time turning away from him.

"I didn't realise I was supposed to."

Mike sighed softly.

"I didn't mean it like that. Bobby..."

He trailled off, at a loss for what to say. He was still trying to decide when the curtains that shielded their beds from the view of anyone else in the ER were pulled aside and Horatio led in a familiar face.

"Captain Deakins," Mike stammered. Bobby stiffened just slightly at Mike's startled greeting, but made no effort to turn back to look for himself. Deakins paused, looking from Mike, to Bobby, and back to Mike again before speaking.

"Lieutenant Caine tells me you'll both recover," he said tonelessly, betraying nothing of what he was really thinking or feeling. Mike glanced at Bobby again before answering tentatively.

"We're okay," he confirmed. "Captain, I'm sorry. I... We did what we did to save Barek and Eames."

Deakins nodded, his expression softening noticeably at Mike's sincere words.

"I know, Mike." He looked back at Bobby, puzzled that Bobby hadn't so much as looked at him. "Bobby...?"

There was no response. Deakins regarded him thoughtfully for a moment before looking back at Horatio.

"Lieutenant, would you mind letting me have a few minutes?"

Horatio nodded and slipped out without a word.

"All right," Deakins said quietly once Horatio had gone. "Which of you is going to tell me what happened?"

Still Bobby didn't move or speak, and Mike sighed softly in resignation.

"You know everything up to where...?"

Deakins focused a hard look on him.

"Up to where you and Bobby did a repeat of your little escape stunt."

Mike winced at his tone.

"Okay. Um... We didn't exactly have a plan..."

"I figured as much."

"We just wanted to do whatever we had to so that Alex and Carolyn would be okay, so we went to a bar, and we just waited."

"And the Mal Noche came to you," Deakins guessed. Mike nodded. He spared Bobby a sideways glance, searching for any reaction, but so far there was none.

"They found us, but we wouldn't go anywhere with them until we knew for sure that Alex and Carolyn were safe. When we got that..."

"You gave yourselves up to them," Deakins said when Mike hesitated. "And, I'm guessing that you didn't have a plan at this point, either."

Mike looked uncomfortable.

"No... Not really."

Deakins sighed softly.

"All right. What happened then, after you idiotically turned yourselves over to a brutal crime gang?"

Again, Mike looked over at Bobby, but there was still no reaction. Apparently Bobby had elected to let him deal with this one entirely on his own.

"They blindfolded us and drove us around for half an hour or so. Then they took us to a motel..."

"Original," Deakins retorted. Mike nodded.

"Yeah, we know. Bad guys have no originality. Anyway, they left us tied up in one of the rooms, and then Richie showed up maybe ten minutes later. He, um... said some things to us, taunted us a little... Then, he pulled a goddamn butcher knife out of a bag and was going to gut Bobby with it. I got out of my ropes, and tackled him, and that's when I got stabbed..."

"Hang on," Deakins growled. "Back up, Mike. You got out of the ropes they tied you up with? How? Were they particularly sloppy in tying you up?"

"Not exactly," Mike answered. "I swiped a scalpel from the hospital before we bugged out, and hid it up my sleeve with a little bit of sticking plaster. I'd kind of counted on them only looking for guns, which they did. I used the scalpel to cut the ropes."

Deakins couldn't help but smile.

"Very intuitive, Detective."

Mike didn't smile.

"When Richie stabbed me, Bobby tipped his chair over to break it, so he could get loose. He grabbed the butcher knife, and when Richie tried to jump on him, Bobby... You know."

"I know," Deakins murmured. He was silent for a long moment, contemplating what to say before speaking again. "What _things_ did Richie tell you both?"

There was no way that Deakins could possibly miss the way that both Mike and Bobby tensed at his question. Mike looked over at Bobby, whose breathing had quickened noticeably. Deakins eyed Mike thoughtfully before turning and walking around to the far side, so that he could look at Bobby. What he saw there in the detective's face hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut.

Bobby's eyes were red and swollen, and his cheeks were wet with tears. He didn't seem to be seeing Deakins at all.

After a moment's consideration, Deakins reached out and laid a hand gently on Bobby's shoulder in an attempt to draw his attention.

"Bobby, look at me."

For nearly a minute, he got no response. Then, finally, Bobby's eyes blinked slowly, and he lifted his gaze to look at his captain.

"Talk to me, Bobby," Deakins encouraged him softly. "What did you find out?"

Bobby didn't answer him, and the distraught look on his face only worsened. Deakins was just considering his options when a creaking noise drew his attention, and he looked to see Mike easing himself out of bed.

"Mike, what the hell are you doing? Get back in bed!"

Mike shook his head, and walked gingerly around to join the captain.

"Bobby, I really am sorry," he told his brother softly. "It never occurred to me that it was my dad who... strayed, and not yours. I swear, if I'd had any idea, I would never have chased this. I really wouldn't have. I swear that I never wanted you to get hurt... Not in any way."

Confusion flashed across Deakins' face as he looked at them both.

"Mike? What do you mean, your father?"

Mike looked back at Deakins, and spoke softly.

"That's what Richie told us. It wasn't my mom and Bobby's dad. It was the other way around. My dad... and Bobby's mom."

"Lord almighty," Deakins murmured in dismay as Mike's words sank in. He fell silent, at a loss for what to say or do. This was a development that none of them had been expecting.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, softly. "I really am. Both of you…"

He trailed off as Bobby suddenly spoke in a strained voice.

"I… had to…"

"You had to what?" Deakins asked, although he suspected he already knew what Bobby meant. He wanted Bobby to face it, though, and accept it – however hard it was to do that.

"Richie," Bobby stammered. "H… Had to… kill him. H… He was going to k… kill us… I had to…"

"You did what you had to do to protect yourself and Mike," Deakins assured him. "You saved your own lives. I wouldn't have expected anything less from either of you."

"But… He was my brother…" Bobby choked out. "I killed my own brother…"

The tears came in a veritable flood as reality finally sank in. Pushing Deakins rather unceremoniously out of the way, Mike leaned in to hug his brother as best as he was able.

* * *

Deakins moved silently back and watched as Bobby gave in almost straight away, and willingly accepted the offer of comfort from Mike. Their bond was as strong as ever, he noted with gratitude and relief. With a little bit of luck, it would see them both safely through this latest trial.

As he slipped out of the cubicle to go and rejoin Alex and Carolyn, he wondered whether they knew yet about this latest revelation over Mike and Bobby's parentage. He suspected not, and it wasn't his place to tell them, either. That decision had to be entirely up to Mike and Bobby.

He emerged into the waiting room to find Alex, Carolyn, and the Miami lieutenant watching him expectantly. Sighing aloud, he sank into an empty chair to gather his thoughts before speaking.

"You were right," he said finally to the women. "They have been badly shaken. It may take some time before they'll recover from this."

"Did they tell you anything about what happened while they were alone with Richie?" Alex asked. "Because Mike would only talk about the actual fight, and Bobby wouldn't talk at all. We figure that Richie must have told them something, but we have no idea what."

"He did tell them something, Deakins confirmed, "but it's not for me to tell anyone else. That's a choice for Bobby and Mike to make. Not for anyone else to make for them."

"It's something serious, isn't it?" Carolyn asked uneasily. Deakins looked back in the direction of the ER. That knot in his stomach had not loosened off one iota.

"Yes," he confirmed softly. "It is."

* * *

It could have been minutes or hours before Bobby's distraught sobs finally eased, and eventually stopped. When the two brothers finally detached themselves from each other, a visible calmness had returned to Bobby's eyes, much to Mike's relief.

"I know you don't want to hear it," Mike said softly, "but I really am sorry."

Bobby sighed.

"How many times do we have to go over this, Mike? I don't blame you for any of it. All of this… with Richie… It never needed to go this far. What happened in that motel room wasn't your fault, or mine. If I'm going to blame anyone, I'll blame Richie. And that's who you should be blaming, too."

Mike didn't argue; something that Bobby was inherently grateful for. He simply didn't have the strength to fight with him over the issue of culpability.

"So," Mike said quietly, "what now?"

Bobby was too tired to play ignorant. He knew what Mike meant.

"I don't know. With Richie gone, there's only one person left who knows the whole story."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to know?" Mike wondered.

"Part of me does… Part of me doesn't. I don't know what to do, Mike."

"I'll tell you what we'll do," Mike responded. "We're going to go home to New York, and heal up. We'll decide what to do after that, and we'll decide _together_. Okay?"

Bobby nodded, grateful to have an attainable goal set in front of him.

"Okay."

* * *

_tbc..._


	17. At the End of the Adventure

A/N: _It seems I have two chapters left in me of this story. Unless my muse does something freakish, I anticipate this being the penultimate chapter. There will be one chapter following after this.  
And, apparently the issue of handcuffs is an ongoing torment for the poor boys. That's the way it goes._

_

* * *

_

"So, are you clowns ever going to tell us what you found out?" Carolyn asked some time later, when Bobby and Mike had both been moved to a ward for overnight observation. The two men exchanged looks. They hadn't intended on keeping it to themselves, of course, but at the same time, neither man was altogether certain that they were ready to share.

"It's up to you, Bobby," Mike said softly, in a subdued tone. Bobby grimaced.

"What happened to deciding together?"

Mike shrugged.

"I defer authority."

Bobby snorted, but didn't argue further. The truth was, he _wanted_ to tell them. He didn't want to keep it from them, primarily because he knew they would only offer complete support. Finally, because he really didn't know what to say, or how to say it, he simply blurted it out.

"It wasn't my dad who slept with Mike's mom. It was his dad who slept with my mom."

Alex blinked in astonishment, and walked slowly over to her partner's bedside.

"So… What you're saying is…"

"I… My father wasn't Richard Goren Snr," Bobby whispered shakily. Mike spoke up in a soft, but steady voice.

"It was Jack Logan. _Our_ father was Jack Logan."

Bobby looked away, his throat starting to physically hurt him as he struggled to contain his emotions.

"I'm not a Goren. I… I don't know who I am."

"That's bullshit, Bobby," Carolyn growled. "Who you are hasn't changed, not unless _you_ allow it to happen. And how negatively is it really going to affect you, to know that the son of a bitch who treated you like a bit of dirt when you were a kid wasn't your dad after all?"

Bobby drew in an unsteady breath. He had to concede to that. Her words certainly made sense... but it just wasn't as simple as that for him. He couldn't just shrug off what they'd learned, and pretend it meant nothing to him. Nothing was _ever _that simple.

"It makes sense, you know," Alex murmured. "Did Richie say whether your father knew?"

"According to Richie, he did," Bobby answered. "He said he knew all along... That it was why he treated me like that. Because I wasn't his... and he knew it."

"Well, did he tell you anything else?" Carolyn wondered. Bobby shook his head wordlessly, looking away.

"He told us just enough to leave us with more questions," Mike said, "and nothing more. The spiteful son of a bitch..."

"So, what now?" Alex asked, looking back to her partner, and gently touching his cheek to draw his attention back to her. "Do you have any idea what you're going to do now?"

"I don't know," Bobby admitted. "I don't know what to do. Mom is the only one left now who could tell us what happened, but there's no guarantee she'd even remember. I just don't know."

Alex grasped his hand in silent comfort, and looked over at Carolyn, searching for some help. She gave a slight nod, and promptly changed the topic of conversation.

"You know," she said teasingly, "we're starting to wonder whether you two bozos even want to come back to work. You seem to be doing everything you can to avoid it."

Mike and Bobby exchanged glances, each one silently grateful for the not so subtle change in subject matter.

"Hey," Mike protested, "if you two hadn't let yourselves be grabbed by those Mal Noche goons, then we wouldn't have had to exchange ourselves like that."

"Oh, so it's our fault now?" Alex retorted, walking around to Mike's bedside. He took one look at the expression on her face, and visibly cringed.

"I didn't say _that_... C'mon, Bobby, help me out here!"

Bobby smiled faintly. Once, he would have cheerfully let Mike sink in the quagmire of his own thoughtlessness, but now...

"Hey," he said, knowing full well that what he was about to say was going to get him into serious trouble. "Can we help it that we were under the impression you ladies could look after yourselves?"

Alex and Carolyn looked at each other, outwardly annoyed at the remark, but inwardly grateful that he was willing to at least attempt to join in their banter. Carolyn raised an eyebrow quizically at Alex, who smirked, and made a sweeping gesture towards Bobby.

"He's all yours."

Carolyn grinned, and motioned towards Mike.

"Likewise."

Alex returned Carolyn's grin with a sharklike one of her own.

"Thankyou."

"Uh... what...?" Mike stammered as Alex pulled the curtain around his bed, and Carolyn did the same with Bobby. Alex leaned in lightly against him, though she took care not to bump Mike where it would hurt him. "Alex, what are you doing...?" he asked uneasily.

"Showing you that I know how to take care of myself... and you... if you'll let me."

"Alex..."

She reached up to cup his cheek gently.

"Do I need my handcuffs, Mike?"

He sucked in a sharp breath.

"No," he whispered. "You don't."

Her smile softened as she drew his head down gently to hers.

"Good."

* * *

Bobby was in a similar state of trepidation as he watched Carolyn pulled the curtain closed around his bed.

"You... You're not going to handcuff me to the bed again, are you?" he asked nervously. Carolyn smiled reassuringly at him.

"I don't need to do that, do I?"

Bobby swallowed hard.

"No. I'm not going anywhere."

Carolyn's smile widened a little. She laid her hand gently in his, and was encouraged when he closed his hand around hers and squeezed lightly.

"I'm glad to hear that," she murmured.

Bobby stared at her wordlessly for a long moment before leaning across and brushing his lips over hers.

"Thankyou," he whispered, his warm breath caressing her cheek.

Carolyn didn't quite understand what he was thanking her for, and she suspected he didn't really know either, so she didn't ask. Instead, as she turned back towards him and their lips met again, she murmured a sincere "You're welcome."

* * *

In the end, Deakins made an executive decision that they would all fly back, and that he would make other arrangements for the SUV to be driven back to New York. Neither Bobby nor Mike argued, much to their partners' relief. Ultimately, all any of them wanted now was to be home again, so that they could begin to put the entire episode behind them.

So, two days later found them at the airport, awaiting a boarding call for their flight. As a condition of early release from the hospital, Mike and Bobby had both been forced to concede to be transported in wheelchairs – a situation that neither one of them was happy about, but amused Deakins and their partners no end. And that was how Horatio found them when he arrived at the departure gate to farewell them; Bobby and Mike in wheelchairs and looking less than thrilled about it, while Deakins, Alex and Carolyn all looked on in amusement at their griping.

"It's your own damn fault," Alex pointed out, making no effort to hide her own amusement at Mike's grousing. "If you'd just done what Lieutenant Caine asked, you wouldn't have both been nearly killed."

"Maybe not," Bobby replied in defense of his brother. "But we might also have gone home to New York each needing a new partner."

Alex winced a little, and decided against arguing further.

"Your partner's right, Detective Eames."

They all looked up to find Horatio standing there, watching them with a small smile. Deakins rose up and walked over to shake his hand in greeting.

"Lieutenant. Come to make sure they do actually leave?"

Horatio laughed softly at that,

"I don't think I need to be concerned about that, Captain Deakins. Do I?"

"Hell, no," Mike muttered. "Don't get me wrong, Lieutenant. You've got a nice city here, but..."

"There's no place like home?" Carolyn suggested when he hesitated. Mike grunted.

"For want of a better phrase? Yes."

"Actually," Horatio said, "I came to let you know that I caught up with Marco Vega and a couple of his bosses. The Mal Noche has apparently decided not to pursue you over what happened with Richie or Rico. The word is that Rico had been manipulating Richie, and was operating separate to the orders he'd been given by his superiors."

"Orders that were what...?" Deakins asked. Horatio nodded towards Mike and Bobby.

"To stay well clear of your detectives, Captain. As soon as the Mal Noche learned they were in Miami, Richie was apparently warned not to make any contact. It appears that night in the bar was a deliberate act after all. Deliberate on Richie's part, though. Not yours."

Bobby looked bitter.

"Son of a bitch never could resist taking any opportunity to try and cut me down."

"But he made a serious mistake this time," Horatio said. "He failed to take into account that this time, you had back-up. That was what brought him down in the end."

Bobby nodded wordlessly. He was still coming to grips in his own mind with Richie's death, and he wasn't quite ready to face it.

"The other reason I came by," Horatio said, sensing that a change of topic was needed, "was to thank you."

"Thank us for what?" Mike asked sceptically. Horatio couldn't resist a chuckle.

"For helping us to bring in Rico Peres. We've been after him for a long time. Now, we have him, thanks to you."

Mike grunted in reply.

"Sure. No problem."

Horatio grinned, and then turned his attention to Alex and Carolyn.

"Take care of your partners, ladies. They're good men." He then nodded in acknowledgement to Deakins. "Captain. It was good to meet you."

"Likewise," Deakins confirmed. "I can see now why Mack Taylor speaks so highly of you."

With another nod, Horatio turned and headed off.

"Take care of our partners," Carolyn snorted derisively, once he'd gone. "That's rich. They wouldn't follow orders before. What makes him think that's going to be any different now?"

Deakins grinned as he sat back down to wait for the boarding call.

"You always have your handcuffs."

* * *

_tbc..._


	18. A Not So Difficult Truth

_A/N: We have here the end of one story, but it seems the saga is not over yet. Yes, there is a new story in the works, to follow on from this one, and I will be posting the first chapter of it very soon._

_Dedication: This is something I should have done not only at the start of this story, but also at the start of "Trapped", and I apologise for being so lax. This story, and it's prequel are both dedicated to Mike, who inspired their creation. Thanks so much for reading, and encouraging me. _8-)

_

* * *

_

_Three days later_

Bobby spent the next few days shrouded in a silence that not even Mike could break through. At first, they worried that perhaps he was slipping into some form of depression, until Deakins reminded them that Richie had died at Bobby's hand, and it was going to take time for him to come to grips with that. Bobby wasn't deliberately shutting them all out. He was simply trying to accept what had happened in the only way he knew how – by locking himself away within that phenomenal mind of his, until he was able to deal with recent events.

It was on the third day, when Mike was at Bobby's apartment while Alex and Carolyn dealt with a seemingly neverending stream of paperwork at One Police Plaza, that Bobby finally came out of the shell that he'd formed around himself.

"We need to talk to her."

Mike looked up at Bobby in surprise and, for a long moment, the words didn't register in his mind.

"Hey. You finally decided to come back to us."

"I'm sorry," Bobby murmured. "I just... needed time to sort things out."

"It's okay, baby brother. I get that. I was just worried, that's all. Are you okay, now?"

"I think so," Bobby answered. "I... I know I didn't have a choice. If I hadn't taken out Richie, he and Peres would have killed us both."

"Yeah, they would have," Mike agreed. "And I'm sorry that it was you who had to do it, but I won't say I'm sorry that Richie's dead. He can't hurt you anymore, Bobby. That's what I care about."

"I know. I appreciate it, Mike."

Mike nodded, and a brief silence fell until, nearly a minute later, Bobby's earlier words suddenly registered in his mind.

"Uh... _Who_ do we need to talk to?"

Bobby regarded Mike wearily.

"Mom."

"Hang on, Bobby," Mike argued. "We both agreed that was _not_ an option. Even if she does remember anything, the stress might just push her into another break. I don't want that to happen anymore than you do."

Bobby nodded, appreciative of Mike's consideration. It was strange, he reflected sadly, how the tables so quickly. Before, it had been Mike who had been eager for answers, while he had pleaded for caution. Now, while he couldn't exactly say that he was eager to get answers, it was definitely Mike who was now urging caution.

"It seemed straightforward before… because I knew what Dad was like. It didn't seem that much of a stretch to think he'd slept around before I was born. But your dad… He wasn't like that."

"No," Mike agreed quietly. "He wasn't."

"And I know Mom wasn't like that, either. So whatever happened between them must have been more than just a one-night stand. I'm going to ask her, Mike. I'm going to go tomorrow, and ask her face to face. What I want to know is… will you come with me? If… If you don't want to, I'll understand…"

"I'll come," Mike promised him. "I wouldn't leave you to do that on your own."

Bobby sighed softly.

"Thanks, Mike."

"Sure. Just one thing. How the hell are we going to get there? I don't know about you, but I'm not so keen on asking Alex and Carolyn for anymore favours just yet."

"I'll call Lewis," Bobby decided, realising that Mike was right. "He'll take us. But I think we need to at least let them know we're going. You know what'll happen if they come by, or call, and they can't find us."

Mike grunted.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Handcuffs. And not in a good way."

* * *

_One Police Plaza_

Alex hung up the phone slowly, chewing lightly on her lower lip as she contemplated what she'd just been told.

"I know that look," a voice said, and she looked up to see Deakins approaching, a distinct frown on his face. "What are they up to now?"

She couldn't help but smile.

"Is it that obvious?"

Deakins chuckled darkly as he sat gingerly on the edge of her desk.

"In a word? Yes. Come clean, Alex. What are they doing?"

"They're going to go to Carmel Ridge tomorrow to talk to Bobby's mom."

The frown slipped from his face as he quickly realised why.

"I assume this is something they've decided on together?"

"I think so. It was Bobby who told me. He didn't seem exactly happy about it, but I think he wants to know the details now as much as Mike."

"I can't say I blame either of them," Deakins mused. "Did he ask you to take them?"

Alex shook her head.

"No. He said he'd already called Lewis, and organised a ride with him. I don't think he was game enough to ask me or Carolyn."

Deakins nodded. He wasn't surprised by that in the least.

"Well," he said as he stood up, "let's just hope they get the answers they're looking for, so we can all put this issue to rest once and for all."

* * *

_The following day_

Lewis arrived to pick Mike and Bobby up just after midday of the following day, as promised. The trip to Carmel Ridge proved to be a long one, with neither brother in a talkative mood. Lewis tried a couple of times to get a conversation going, only to be left floundering when he got no response. In the end, he gave up and concentrated on his driving.

When they finally arrived at Carmel Ridge, Bobby asked Lewis to wait for them, and then he and Mike headed into the building together.

* * *

"Mike, are you sure you're willing to come in with me?" Bobby asked softly as they paused in the foyer. Mike paused, his gaze flickering to the corridor that led past the reception counter, and steeling himself for what they were about to do.

"Yeah, I am," he confirmed, turning back finally to look Bobby in the eye. "Are you sure you're okay with it?"

It was a moot question. After everything that had happened in Miami, and after everything Richie had told them… everything he'd taunted Bobby over… Bobby's need to know the truth now was just as great as Mike's, and they both knew it.

"Just… Trust me? If I tell you to leave, don't argue with me."

Mike nodded in wordless assent. Bobby's breath escaped him in a soft sigh.

"Okay. Let's do this."

* * *

Yvonne looked up from her seat at Carmel Ridge's front desk, and a warm smile lit up her face.

"Bobby! It's good to see you! On the road to recovery, I see?"

Bobby favoured her with a warm smile in return, but conspicuously avoided responding to her query.

"Hi, Yvonne. Is… Is Mom up to having visitors?"

"Absolutely, honey. She'd been having a good day. But who's this handsome fellow you've brought with you?"

It was all Bobby could do to contain his smirk, especially at the sight of Mike's face turning a deep shade of red.

"This is my brother, Yvonne."

At that, her welcoming smile faded and a dark frown crossed her features.

"Oh, really…"

"This isn't Richie," Bobby assured her. "This is Mike."

Her eyebrows went up in surprise.

"I didn't realise you had another brother, Bobby."

"It's a long story," Mike said wryly, and Bobby nodded in agreement.

"So… Richie's still MIA?" she inquired carefully. Bobby hesitated in answering. As much as he didn't want to talk about it, he knew he had to say something. Frances deserved to know that her oldest son was dead, but in telling her, it could well push her into the psychotic break that he and Mike were afraid of.

"Richie's dead, Yvonne," Bobby explained quietly. "He… He got in with a very bad group… It cost him his life."

Very diplomatic, Mike thought wryly. It was the truth, but not the entire truth.

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Yvonne murmured. "Did you want me to let Dr Shimo know?"

He nodded gratefully.

"Yes. Thankyou… Just in case."

"Of course. I'll do that right away. You boys go on through."

* * *

"She didn't seem all that broken up," Mike remarked under his breath as he and Bobby headed down the long corridor that would take them to Frances' room.

"That would be because Richie's reputation is lower than mud here," Bobby explained. "No one here has actually met him, but they all seem to hate him on principle. Mom can get pretty graphic in the stories she tells about him."

Mike couldn't hide the smile that quirked his lips.

"You know, we could add to those now."

Bobby grimaced, and chose not to respond to that. They rounded a corner, and Bobby slowed to a halt outside the third door along. He looked back at Mike, who held up his hands to stop the inevitable question.

"Yes, I'm sure. And so are you. We need to know, baby brother, so let's just do it."

Sighing softly, Bobby pushed the door open, and led the way inside.

* * *

Mike wasn't entirely sure what his expectations were as he walked in, but the brightly lit room that he was met with was not among them. Nor were the four bookshelves that were jammed with books of all sorts. It reminded him vividly of Bobby's home, he thought in mild amusement.

"Bobby? Sweetheart, I wasn't expecting you today."

Mike looked around to see Bobby walking around and hugging and kissing the elderly woman who sat in a chair by the window.

"I know, Mom. This was… a special occasion. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Although, Mrs Jessup two rooms down has been having a fairly dreadful time lately. I feel sorry for her, of course, but she disturbs everyone with her wailing at night…" Frances trailed off, and Mike suddenly found himself trapped in her piercing, probing gaze. "Bobby? Aren't you going to introduce your friend?"

Bobby knew that tone only too well. That was her 'use the manners you were taught' tone.

"I'm sorry, Mom. This is Mike. We, um…We work together in the Major Case Squad."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma'am," Mike greeted her with his warmest smile, stepping forward and taking her offered hand in a polite grip. Frances smiled approvingly.

"What a lovely, polite boy."

Bobby coughed, and it took all Mike's control not to elbow him.

"Now, Bobby, perhaps you'd like to tell me the reason for this… special visit. Should I be preparing myself for bad news?"

Bobby's smile faded, and Frances nodded sagely.

"I should. Very well, young man. I suggest you tell me, and get it over with."

Sparing Mike a grim glance, Bobby sat down carefully on the bed.

"It's about Richie, Mom. He… um…"

Frances' gaze narrowed further when he faltered, and even as Mike watched, a sad understanding dawned in her eyes.

"Is he dead? Bobby? Is your brother dead?"

"Yes," Bobby admitted shakily. Frances shut her eyes for a long moment, as though struggling to compose herself.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? Or is that something I'm better off not knowing?"

"He… He got in with the wrong people," Bobby said softly. "It was a crime gang, in Miami."

Frances regarded him thoughtfully for a long moment before her gaze dropped to his side, where he'd been stabbed.

"What did your brother do to you?"

Bobby said nothing, torn between telling her the truth, and trying to protect her from it. Frances reached out to his side, and he flinched away from her automatically. Her gaze hardened.

"Robert Goren, you tell me what he did to you, and you tell me now!"

Miserable and defeated, Bobby lifted up his shirt to reveal the gauze-covered wound.

"He stabbed me. He stabbed Mike in the stomach… He… He tried to kill us, Mom."

The understanding in Frances' eyes was more than either Bobby or Mike had anticipated.

"It was you, wasn't it, Bobby? You killed Richie, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, Mom," Bobby choked out, tears coming in a flood. "I didn't want to… but he didn't give me a choice. I'm sorry…"

Frances gently gathered her younger son into her arms, and drew his head down to her shoulder.

"My poor boy," she murmured as he sobbed. "My poor baby…" Her gaze went to Mike as she cradled Bobby to her, and motioned to the spot on the bed beside Bobby. "Mike, come and sit down. That's it. You were there?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Mike confirmed. "Bobby did everything he could. Neither of us wanted him dead, but Richie never gave us a chance."

"I believe you," Frances assured him. "You have honest eyes."

Mike smiled faintly, mildly bemused. He'd been told plenty of things in his time, but that was definitely a first. When Bobby finally pulled back, though, Frances looked from one to the other with that same, piercing look.

"Now, which of you boys intends to tell me the real reason you're here?"

Mike and Bobby looked at each other uneasily. Bobby swallowed hard. It was too easy in this place to forget just how perceptive his mother really was.

"Mom… Richie told me some things… About me… I need to know if they're true."

Frances nodded.

"Fair enough. What did he tell you?"

"He told me that you… you had an… an…"

"An affair?" she suggested lightly when he faltered. Bobby nodded.

"Yes. And that I wasn't… I mean…"

"That I got pregnant as a result of the affair?"

Bobby's shoulders slumped.

"Yes."

Frances sighed softly.

"Richie…" she murmured, with regret in her voice. "You sorry, vindictive boy…"

"It's true?" Bobby asked, and she answered with a single nod.

"Yes. It's true. Before you judge me, though, Bobby, perhaps you should hear the whole story."

Bobby nodded wordlessly, and was quietly aware of Mike tensing beside him. Seemingly oblivious to Mike's presence, Frances spoke quietly, with her attention focused exclusively on her son.

"When I first met Jack, Richard and I were having some problems. We fought, a lot. Once, it got so bad that the neighbours called the police. The officer who came to investigate was… well, I won't go into that, suffice to say that he certainly attracted my attention, and I seemed to attract his. Nothing came of it right then, of course, but later on… Richard went away for a few weeks. He claimed he was at a seminar for his business, but I know where he really was. While he was gone, Jack came back to see me. He said he was conducting a follow-up call, to see if everything was okay. I was able to invite him in, then, because Richard wasn't there."

Frances, paused, and sighed at the memory.

"We had a connection, there was no denying it. I can't really say whether it was amplified by my unhappiness at the time, but something was there, because he came back again the next day, and the day after that… And it was after nearly a week of those 'follow-up' calls that we finally…" She paused again, smiling faintly, and squeezing Bobby's hand gently. "Well, you know what I mean. It only happened the once, but it was enough. I found out that I was pregnant two weeks after Richard came home. I couldn't even try to pretend you were his, Bobby, because we hadn't slept together for a long time by then. But we both pretended you were, because back then it would have meant ostracism from the church, and strange as it seemed, that did still mean something back then. But he knew, and he resented you because of it."

"What happened with Jack?" Bobby asked softly.

"He started coming to see me at the library. Once he found out I was pregnant… and he knew you were his, even without me telling him so… he started doing everything he could to help me. It wasn't much. None of us could afford much of anything then. But he tried, bless him. And then when you were born… Bobby, that man loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you. He loved you as much as his other little boy. He tried to convince me to leave Richard. He said he'd leave his wife, and we could be together… Him, me, you and his other son... but I couldn't do that. I couldn't leave Richie Junior. That would have been so wrong. He had a plan, though. Jack had a plan, and I was going to go along with it, and damn what anyone else thought. But then, something happened, and all of a sudden Jack stopped coming to see me. It took nearly two months before I learned that he'd died. I was heartbroken… and not just for myself, Bobby, but for you, too. You could have had a father in your life who really did love you, but instead you were left with that monster who treated you like his own personal whipping boy. I'm so sorry for that."

Bobby swallowed hard.

"It… It's okay, Mom. The plan he had… What was it?"

Frances looked past them, to the shelf by the window.

"Mike, would you get that box down from that shelf over there?"

Mike got up, found the one she meant, and pulled it down and handed it to her.

"Thankyou, dear. Now, Bobby, I can't open this here. I don't have the key. I expect you'll need to take it to a locksmith to get it opened. Jack gave it to me the last time I saw him, but he never gave me the key to open it. He said… What was it again? Oh yes… He said, his boys would open it when the time was right. I suppose he may have left the key with his other boy, perhaps."

Bobby looked around at Mike quizzically, and his breath caught in his throat at the stunned realisation in Mike's eyes.

"Mike?" he asked, and Mike nodded.

"I have a key. It was the last thing I got from Dad before he died. I never knew what it was for, but I never threw it out, either. I always kept it where I knew it'd be safe. Right now, it's in a little box in my desk at One Police Plaza."

"Boys…?" Frances inquired, puzzled. Bobby turned back to her, his heart pounding.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't introduce Mike properly when we came in. This is Mike Logan. Jack Logan's oldest son."

Frances froze, staring at Mike in breathless astonishment.

"Y… You… You're Jack's boy…? You're Bobby's brother…?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Mike confirmed softly. Tears sprung abruptly to Frances' eyes, and she got unsteadily to her feet, motioning for Mike to come closer. He did, and promptly found himself pulled in close for a fierce hug.

"Thank God," she said in a muffled voice. "Thank God, you found each other."

For several seconds, Mike stood frozen, seemingly unsure what to do. Then, slowly, he relaxed in her embrace, and his arms found their way around Frances Goren in an equally warm embrace.

Sitting on the bed, watching the emotional scene, Bobby couldn't help but smile as he felt the bitter residue of Richie's actions slowly start to wash away. Here was his family – his entire family – and that was all that mattered.

* * *

They stayed for another half an hour, until Frances began to display signs of exhaustion, and then the trip home was only marginally livelier than the trip to Carmel Ridge. While Mike and Bobby were once again lost in their own thoughts, the mood was less dark than it had been earlier.

Despite Lewis' offer to take them to a bar for a drink, and maybe a game or two of pool, both brothers were insistent that he take them to One Police Plaza. They wouldn't explain why to him. Bobby was apologetic, promising to tell him the full details at a later point, and Lewis accepted that without argument.

They paused outside the doors of One Police Plaza after Lewis had dropped them off. Bobby had his mother's box tucked tightly under his arm, his mother's parting words still clear in his mind.

"_Are you sure you want us to take this?" Bobby had asked. Frances smiled, and pulled his head down gently to kiss his forehead._

"_I told you, sweetheart. That box always belonged to you and Mike. I've just been keeping it safe until it was the right time. The box, and everything in it, belongs to you and your brother."_

"_And what, exactly, is in it?" Mike asked. There was no scepticism in his voice, only curiosity. Frances favoured him with a warm smile._

"_I'm not really sure what Jack put in it," she admitted. "That's something you'll have to discover for yourselves."_

And so they'd opted to go straight to One Police Plaza from Carmel Ridge, to get the key from Mike's desk and find out just what was inside the box.

"We going to do this?" Mike asked, watching Bobby thoughtfully. Bobby nodded.

"Yes. Let's go."

* * *

"Uh oh," Carolyn murmured. Alex glanced at her questioningly, and then up looked to see what Carolyn had just spotted.

"Oh no," Alex muttered. "What are they doing here? Deakins is going to have their heads!"

"Maybe we can cut them off at the pass," Carolyn suggested, already getting up out of her seat, but Alex shook her head grimly.

"Too late."

Sure enough, Deakins had spotted them as well, and was already coming out of his office to see what was going on.

"Don't you two clowns understand the concept of being on leave?" he demanded. Mike held up his hands defensively as he walked over to his desk.

"We're not here for work, Captain. We came to get something from my desk."

"How did the visit go?" Alex asked, hoping to redirect any animosity that might have threatened to erupt. Bobby managed a small smile in her direction. He understood what she was trying to do, and appreciated it.

"A lot better than I thought. She... was very lucid. She remembered... and was able to answer our questions."

"So... what Richie told you...?" Carolyn wondered.

"Was all true," Bobby confirmed.

"Dad did have an affair with Bobby's mom," Mike said. "It was only brief, but..."

"Passionate?" Carolyn suggested, drawing wry smiles from both Mike and Bobby.

"That would be the word," Mike agreed. "According to Frances, when Dad discovered she was pregnant, he wanted her to leave her husband. He wanted to leave my mom and go away with Frances... Him, Frances, me and Bobby."

"But Mom wouldn't leave Richie," Bobby continued on.

"But she said Dad had a plan," Mike explained. "She couldn't... or wouldn't tell us what was in it, but she gave us that box. We came to get the key so we could open it up and look at what's inside... Here it is."

Deakins walked over to see that Mike had pulled a small box from one of his desk drawers, and from that box he withdrew a small, bronze key.

"You've had a key all this time, that opens a box that your father gave Frances Goren?" the captain asked, bemused. Mike nodded.

"Dad left the key with me, but I figure he gave the box to Frances because he didn't want Mom getting a hold of it. I think he figured it would be safe with her..."

"Until we were ready to open it," Bobby said. "Together."

Deakins hesitated, and then motioned to his office.

"Let's go in there. It's a little more private than out here."

* * *

A minute later, they were comfortably seated inside the captain's office, the box on his desk.

"No sense in waiting," Mike muttered and, with a last look to Bobby for confirmation, he leaned forward and unlocked the box.

"What's in it?" Alex asked, trying unsuccessfully to suppress her curiosity.

"Papers," Mike said, frowning. "It's papers... looks like some sort of official documents."

Bobby reached into the box, and pulled out a thin sheaf of papers, and his breath caught in his throat.

"What is it?" Deakins asked. Bobby looked up slowly, his gaze fixing on Mike.

"They're applications for custody... custody of us."

Mike leaned across to get a better look.

"He was applying for full custody of the both of us... These papers... They're dated for just a month or so before Dad died."

Bobby shuffled slowly through the papers, until he came to a single page, a letter written in elegant and sweeping handwriting.

"This is Mom's handwriting..."

"What does it say?" Carolyn asked. "Bobby...?"

Bobby drew in a slow breath, and read a portion of the letter.

"_I, Mrs Frances Goren, am writing to give my support to the application by Mr John Logan for custody of my son, Robert Goren. Mr John Logan is the father of Robert, and it is my belief that he will be cared for adequately by him._" He looked up to see the same emotion in Mike's expression that he imagined was in his own. "He wanted us. He wanted both of us."

He felt tears on his face before he even knew he was shedding them.

"He wanted both of us," Mike echoed softly. He took the papers from Bobby's hand, and laid them back in the box. Silence fell, none of them quite knowing what to say or do.

Finally, Deakins stepped towards the door, speaking quietly.

"Alex, Carolyn, how about an update?"

For just a moment, the women looked confused. Neither was working an active case at that point, so what, exactly, did he want an update on? Then, Deakins nodded towards Mike and Bobby, and understanding dawned.

"Right, an update," Alex said. "Sure, Captain."

Nodding in agreement, Carolyn turned to the door, and followed the captain and her friend and temporary partner out of the room, leaving Mike and Bobby alone.

"Did you expect this?" Mike asked quietly, once they were alone. Bobby shook his head.

"No. Even with what Mom told us, it never occurred to me that he might have tried to actively seek custody of us both."

"So..." Mike murmured. "How does it feel?"

Bobby regarded him quizzically.

"How does what feel?"

"How does it feel to know you had a dad who really did love you, and who wanted to be a part of your life?"

Mike's words hit home hard, and the tears came again before he could stop them. Mike didn't hesitate, but shifted closer, and pulled Bobby to him in a fierce, protective hug, which Bobby returned with equal enthusiasm.

"It... It feels good," Bobby admitted softly, when they pulled back from each other a minute later. "I wish I'd had a chance to know him."

"I'll tell you everything I can about him," Mike promised. He paused, and then laughed softly. "Who knew, huh? When all this started, who knew where it would all end up?"

"For the record," Bobby said with a sad smile, "I'm glad that I was wrong."

"Wrong about what?"

"About our father being Richard Goren. In fact... I don't think I've ever been so glad to be wrong in my life."

Mike chuckled, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

"For the record, I am, too."

* * *

Deakins, Alex and Carolyn made no effort to hide the fact that they were watching Mike and Bobby, to see what would happen, and none of them tried to hide their relief when the brothers embraced.

"Thank God," Carolyn murmured. "I was worried there, for a second."

Deakins couldn't contain his smile.

"I wasn't."

"No?" Alex asked, the scepticism evident in her voice. Deakins' grin widened.

"No," he answered calmly as he headed off towards the break room. "I wasn't."

Alex and Carolyn exchanged bemused smiles and, with a last satisfied glance at their partners as they still sat talking in Deakins' office, returned their attention to the work at hand.

* * *

_Fin._


End file.
